War of the Roses
by stargirl5
Summary: Two of England's most elite schools are rivals and Serenity Blake finds herself perilously caught in their century-old feud.
1. I Foreign Rose

Serenity Blake is excited to attend Whittenfield Academy in England--until she arrives there. The   
rules are different, but when she learns them, it's an emotional decision whether to confirm. There's   
a thin line of friend and enemy she soon realizes. Torn by the need to belong and frustrated by   
their ways, she finds herself perilously caught in a century old feud with Whittenfield Academy   
and their rival, Bainbridge Academy. Not to mention between Darien Bainbridge, the one who seems   
to hate her and yet against the odds finds herself falling for, and Seiya Whittenfield, the deceptively   
charming one whose school would obey anything he tells them--even if it meant taking rivalry too far.

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W a r . of . the . R o s e s  
  
_Stargirl_

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. I Foreign Rose

__

There is a foreign rose,  
Beauty soft; though singing England heart,  
She's a stranger in these troubled groves.

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_Tis (sadly or gladly) another story. For those who like to follow my fanfics, there is now a "story status" area on my profile. I have not given up by any means on Tsuki no Namida, for those who are concerned by the long wait. It wasn't just for that story--I had barely written anything during that time, which really was beginning to get to me. The idea for this story nudged at me the other night, and I couldn't let it past. I have brainstormed for hours since with friends and have a fair grasp on the story--amazingly, for the first time in history I have the ending all planned out! I expect around 10 chapters for this story. Response would be heavenly, but I will -try- to keep motivated and run this story through to the end no matter. Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy the story! ~ Star ~_

****

* * *

Mist rolled over England's green hills, birds' twitters playing like cheerful flutes from the trees to welcome the dewy morning. The endearing old buildings and cobblestone paths merged with the technologies of the age, all engulfed by the wakening nature as the foggy white sky tinted a shade of honey-yellow. 

Serena peered down from her two-story window to the cobblestone street below as cars gradually began the morning traffic. She turned in her cramped but home-broken room, standing in the single clear pathway that faced the tall mirror on the wall, balancing from one foot to the other with her toes digging into the plush carpet. 

She drew in a slow breath, letting it whisper out as she met her reflection, butterflies battling in her stomach. Would _they_ see how nervous she was? Oh, she hoped not. What would she do if they shunned her? But there was no way the students of Whittenfield could _know_ that she was poor--though, perhaps that was worse. They could shun her for some personal flaw. Serena's lapis-blue eyes hardened at her reflection. No doubt that flaw would be lack of self-confidence if she continued with that way of thinking!

They were no better than she was; they simply had deeper pockets. She earned her way into one of England's most prestigious schools. Hundreds of kids tried for the scholarship. Even in America it was coveted. So why was she so nervous? She had no reason to be. No reason at all…

She tilted her head, soft daffodil-blond hair falling over her shoulder, and proceeded to tug at the hem of her uniform. It wasn't new, but there was no visible mark that Serena could discern that would tell her soon-to-be peers that. It was beautiful. The coat was rich scarlet with gold embroidery threading the seams, shimmery gold buttons dotting the front, and proudly sporting the threaded emblem of the school on a right pocket and over the left breast. A pleated gray skirt sprouted from beneath the coat to reach mid thigh; white knee-high socks led down to glossy black shoes. She felt nothing of the imprisonment of freedom the uniform would have represented to her old school, but the swell of pride--like how a young man would wear the military's uniform. 

The further she scrutinized herself the more she became further confident that there was nothing wrong with her appearance. Her eyes flicked over to an antique clock on her wall, growing large in panic. "Mum, why didn't you tell me I was late?" she cried, lunging for the leather briefcase-styled book bag and thundering down the narrow, curving stairs. She nearly collided with her mother at the bottom of the steps. 

"I warned you five minutes ago," Irene Blake returned easily in her defense. With her hand that wasn't clutching coffee, she had Serena stepped back and her hazel eyes grew dewy as she looked at her only daughter. "I'm so proud of you, honey." 

Serena's chest swelled with a pridefull breath, seeing a lot more than a weary woman with dark hair escaping a bun docked out in a waitress outfit before her. She saw a mother who sacrificed a lot. Most of kids if they had one the scholarship would have gone abroad and boarded at the school's dorms, but no, her mother would stand for none of that, insisting they would move and that she'd be there to give her daughter support. Serena wrapped her arms around her mother, her own eyes teary. "I like it here already, Mum, and I just know that the school will be better than I've dreamt." She did like it there already. The cramped but homely two-story apartment was cozy, their own things that they brought from home complementing right next to all the knickknacks of the out-of-country couple that owned the place. It had a cluttered sort of neatness to it.

They were in a nice home in _England, _her father's home country, a place she hadn't been in since she was a little girl. Everything would be more than wonderful. And she fully believed that; however, her faith soon left her once at school.

****

* * *

"Will there be any other questions, Miss Blake?" the Vice Principle asked with a delicate sniff. She looked at Serena only by pivoting her eyes downward to her left, her high-lifted face not turning an inch. 

Serena, still bewildered by the atmosphere and grand corridor she found herself in, looked at the woman, her eyes wide. She felt far from ready to embark into this castle-like school alone, but she couldn't dare bring herself to tell that to this intimidating woman. Thus, she meekly shook her head. "No."

"Very well. This wing is for grade eleven; I trust you have studied the school's map and are knowledgeable of the whereabouts and time schedule of your classes."

Serena had an overpowering sinking sensation, as if her heart was suddenly wallowing by her toes. The woman's sharp tongue and shrewd gaze made it clear to her that did she refute that she was familiar with her school's surroundings that the woman _would_ turn full-force towards her with undisguised disapproval. She knew nothing of where things were though and her face flamed red as she cleared her throat when the woman was speaking on. "Excuse me, Ma'am, but I-I'm afraid that I don't know where my classroom is." She was sure her face turned the shade of a radish at the woman's surprised arch of her brow and disdainful twist of her mouth. Serena struggled for a thin breath and tried to explain. "You see, um, the papers I was sent were only the school's policies and a copy of my schedule--"

"That is enough, Miss Blake," the Vice Principle snapped, folding her hands in front of her. "You are new, so I must excuse a degree of your incompetence, but you must know that I will not excuse it for very long. Responsible prospective students for this school usually visit and take a tour well in advanced--"

"I did," Serena insisted in her defense, but the woman's nose only flared at being interrupted and she spoke on.

"Our poorer students often don't fare as well as the others, so I will be keeping a close watch on you, make no doubt. Of course, being fair as I am, I will give you a chance. There are some lessons that must be learned in this school other than academics. Because the quicker you learn them the better, I will _not_ appoint a teacher or advanced student to baby-sit you. I suggest you figure out a way to find your next class--your first class will be excused, but, I assure you, not your second. You will do well to come to school prepared tomorrow. I am giving you the benefit of the doubt that you will not disappoint me." The Vice President turned and cliply began walking, stopping as if with an after thought near a doorway. She glanced at Serena, her chilled and languid voice flowing back to the stunned girl. "Good day to you, Miss Blake, and welcome to Whittenfield Academy."

Serena didn't move, feeling thoroughly stung. Her jaw quivered, tears inflaming in her eyes. She gritted her teeth and swallowed. What would Mum say if she saw her nearly falling apart? That thought helped her collect herself. She was just too sensitive. Not everyone at this school could be like the Vice Principle. Even if there were a hundred of them, she wouldn't let them make her feel small! 

Tucking in a determined breath, she forced her muscles into gear and began walking down the corridors in search for her second class. A beautiful soprano bell rang, so different from the crude shrill ringing at her old school. Struck momentarily by it, she paused, and found herself further rooted to her spot as students pooled out of the rooms and into the halls. She had to catch her breath. Her old school in America was still fresh in the back of her mind, leaving her in awe by the comparisons. Students were quiet and dignified as the walked about their business, at most, only a soft treble of voices rising. It clashed so much with the screaming chaos she recalled at home. Then of course there was the building itself. It was more like a castle with high-arched ceilings, elegant massive windows, swirling staircases, courtyards, and pathways. 

She proceeded in her search, careful to stay in the same wing for grade eleven. All she needed was to be searching for English Literature in a different grade section. She asked three people for help and was promptly snubbed on all three occasions. Desperate, she continued asking, finally getting an annoyed gesture down a far hall. The students were beginning to thin out, starting off the alarm bells in her mind that she was going to be late. She finally attempted to peak into a classroom, despite her embarrassment, and was redirected by a teacher to a room a few doors down. She didn't think she was late. She couldn't miss the note of disapproval in the teacher's eyes, but she felt sure that had she been late, she would have received more than that. Sinking into her seat, she braced herself for the day, tortured that it was still early in the morning. England was crisp and sunny outside, but it didn't cover the chill she found at Whittenfield Academy. 

Serena's classes became fairly mediocre for awhile. She struggled every time to search for her next class, always just making it in time to miss a teacher's lecture on tardiness but nonetheless late enough to feel the discomfort of all the students primly in their seats eyeing her when she slipped in. At lunch she reclused herself in a discreet table in a corner, self-conscious of her wrinkled paper lunch-bag and soiled peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Her nerves stood on end and the thought of the school day being over gave her momentum to get through the majority of the hours without incident. After she was free from her fifth hour class, her spirit suddenly bubbled at the thought of only one class left. Until, that is, she realized what class it was. Fencing. Oh God, she thought for a dizzy moment, dread coiling in her stomach as she made her way to the athletics facility--the only place's location she seemed to remember from the tour.

Serena arrived, numbly following the barked directions to change into the fencing attire the school provided. She took her time slipping into the white breeches, jacket that zipped from the back, high-riding socks, and shoes. It's only a sport, she said firmly to herself through the butterflies as she stared into the mirror. A teacher's shout jerked her into attention and she scrambled to tug on her gloves and hurried out of the lockers with her mask hugged to her chest like a teddy bear. 

She joined in at the back of the small crowd of new students who waited before the fencing teacher. Fidgeting on the shiny redwood floor, her eyes continuously strayed to the students already vigorously fencing. The facility boasted a ballroom size floor that was lit up by the sunlight pouring in from the almost heavenly-looking narrow windows that lined the walls, fresh air wafting in by some arched entranceways to the courtyard. Swords' soprano clangs teased her ears and with a hard breath, she dragged her attention back to the steely man pacing before the beginning students. His face might have been handsome but were it hardened by lines, his brow creased into a scowl. His strong voice refused being ignored as he began to talk, introducing the basics to fencing without a single welcoming or encouraging word.

Standing in front of a wall richly decorated with a display of swords, he retrieved one sword, juggling it in his capable hand for a moment and lifting it to the student's eager eyes. He pointed out the grip, made of wood and tightly wrapped leather, the shiny oval guard which he explained was there to protect the fencers fingers, and then finally the skinny blade topped with the point, a tiny plastic sphere. Serena watched him from in back, but his words blurred in her mind, her attention drifting emptily.

When only a quarter of the hour for class was left, Serena was pulled to attention when the students started to move around her and the teacher's voice was bellowing about pairing up and finding a strip to practice and get a feel for the fencing basics. Serena looked warily around her at the students that brushed right past her, fidgeting her sore feet and feeling everything the part of an outcast. She turned, taken aback by meeting with timid hazel eyes. A thin girl with slightly wavy short, black hair that curled primly at the back of her neck stood in front of her with a thin but welcoming smile. Serena couldn't believe the rush of warmth that filled her by the simple sign of friendship and returned the smile brightly. 

"Amy Jameson," the girl introduced herself quietly, lifting a hand that Serena shook. "You can pair up with me--if you like."

Serena nodded firmly. "Serenity Blake--but just call me Serena." 

"You're new," Amy murmured as they walked to the rack where the foil swords were being handed out. 

"Yeah." Serena sighed and cocked her head, sending Amy a glance. "Does everyone here act like they own the world? Well… besides you, I mean." 

Amy was quiet for a moment before lifting her head and giving a weak smile. "At least most of them. The rest are too afraid of being outcasted by the more popular students, or more importantly, the student council itself, so they obey them like well-trained dogs. After time, they tend to start acting like them--treating those below their own status that way I mean." 

Serena frowned deeply at this. "But that's horrible! People can't just treat others like that."

Amy sent her a whimsical smile. "Try telling them that."

Serena looked thoughtful for a moment for raising her chin. "Maybe I will," she declared softly.

Amy gasped, her soft features melting to dread. "You can't! I wasn't serious."

"Why shouldn't someone tell them how foolish they're being?" Serena demanded, shaking her head in bewildered confusion. It just wasn't right. Wasn't right at all. 

"Promise me you'll do no such thing!" Amy's eyes were brimmed with real fear, which tugged at Serena's resolve. "You don't know this school like I do. You'd only make matters worse--perhaps get run out of school." More quietly, hardly a breath, she said, "It has been done before."

Reluctantly, Serena nodded at her distressed new friend even though inside something was crying out to knock some sense into these high-headed people. She forced a smile, her voice placating. "All right, Amy. I won't. Promise."

With Amy contented, both of them remained quiet until they were handed their foil swords and were walking away. Amy lightly added, "I was here last year. The best way to survive in this place is to keep quiet, know your place, and never cross the student council."

Serena, flanked by an image of the student council at her old school--campaigning students busying around and having meetings to help the school, stopped and looked at Amy queerly. "The student council?"

Amy looked decidedly uncomfortably, nervously looking around at the fencers before turning towards Serena. "It's… different here. The student council is made up of _the_ most elite students," Amy said in hushed emphasis. "Most of them come from astonishingly wealthy families, and are the top students in the school. In academics and, often, fencing. Seiya Whittenfield is the president--directly related to the founder of the school. Actually, some of the members are here. They combined grade 10 and 11. If a student," Amy paused, tentatively searching for the words, "upsets them somehow… They-they usually don't last long at the school."

"Ridiculous," Serena scoffed, not liking the seriousness way Amy presented the matter. "You're telling me the school practically revolves around them!"

Amy just looked at her with large hazel eyes. 

Serena shook the subject off, both of them feeling considerably lighter by the time they reached an empty strip. Amy mostly smiled and nodded at what Serena was saying, occasionally saying a soft word. They began practicing lightly by slowly acting out a few of the moves, not bothering yet with their masks as they were only getting a feel for things. Serena mock jabbed Amy's chest, and then with laughing blue eyes, whispered a theatrical, "On guard!" Amy giggled and, encouraged, Serena spread her legs, throwing her free hand in back of her while stabbing the sword into the air mockingly and retreating by comically jumping backwards. 

Amy's face fell with a gasp as she tried to call out a warning. Too late, Serena, who had been continuously backing up, had strayed off the strip and collided into a neighboring fencer. Mortified, Serena rolled off her victim, apologizing profusely in a strew of one-breath sentences to the masked person who was unceremoniously strewn on the floor. A muffled grunt was heard as the person struggled to rise. 

The fencer's opponent, with a pale, ghostly look about him as he had stripped off his mask, zoomed by a bewildered Serena who watched quietly. The fencer she had smashed into stood to their full height, tugging their crisp white uniform into place before tearing of their mask. Serena only blinked at the beautiful girl that was revealed with the previously captured raven-black hair waterfalling down the girl's back, but Amy cried out in horror, her hands covering her mouth.

Serena looked at her new friend oddly for a moment when an angry hand forcefully turned her back. Clear blue eyes, both the color and feeling of chipped ice, glared scathingly at her. "Clumsy idiot. This is not play time! Stop fooling around and you won't further endanger the people around you," the dark-haired girl snapped. The spoiled blue eyes scrutinized Serena for a moment, as if expecting for her to beg forgiveness on her knees and cower away. 

Serena gaped at the girl for a moment before struggling in an angered breath. Straightening indignantly, she opened her mouth to speak when Amy scrambled up besides her with a desperate cry. "She's sorry, Miss Whittenfield!" she burst out before meekly staring to the ground. "We both are very much. Please forgive us."

The said "Miss Whittenfield" stared at Amy with complacent annoyance, but Serena was staring at her friend in horror and frustrated anger. Serena looked sharply at the girl she collided with, speaking to Amy. "I certainly already apologized for myself and she had no right to speak like that to me!"

"Serena," Amy begged, but Serena kept her heated gaze on the dark-haired girl.

Raye Whittenfield appeared to grow an inch taller, eyes widening at the blatant insolence of a lower student. "And who are you to speak to _me_ like that?" she demanded coldly. 

"Serenity Blake, Ma'am," Amy was quick to speak up for Serena. "Please--this is her first day. She didn't know."

"I knew very well," Serena snapped, making the meek-mannered Amy want to knock her friend over the head to quit from speaking. "It was you yourself who told me. I don't care if she is part of this Student Council. She has no right to talk to _anyone_ like that." 

This declaration drew in a lot of attention. Both grade 10 and 11 students paused in their practice. Under an arched exit to the outside courtyard, a young man who had been lazily leaned against the wall lifted his head. Seiya Whittenfield's crystal blue eyes glimmered in interest to where his sister stood, flickering curiously over the beautiful blonde next to her.

Serena's stony eyes twisted warily in a once-over of the audience before returning back to Miss Whittenfield, her back stiff with her entire body tense as she waited for this spoiled girl to react. 

Raye's nose flared and her gaze burned in a shocked furry. The effect, however, lasted for only a moment. Suddenly, the girl's hard-pressed frown twisted into a smile, the hostility in her eyes cooling into a pleased satisfaction. She spoke lightly, but her voice was edged like a sword. "A grudge match," she declared with a superior lift of her head. Raye Whittenfield could barely suppress a laugh at the pathetic student before her as she gestured for swords to be brought. What was she thinking challenging any member of the student council let alone _her_? Raye took a hold of the grip of her Sabre, flicking it expertly a few times before whipping past the nervous boy who handed it to her and floating over to the strip mat or bout. There she tapped her foot impatiently, her eyes narrowing in irritation as she waited for her opponent.

Serena's eyes grew huge, a male student forcefully pushing her towards the mat where the raven-haired girl stood. Someone helped put her mask on and she stared through the caged front. What had she gotten herself into? She thought mournfully, accepting the sword she was handing and staring at it in a benumbed horror. The guard was elegantly rounded, a steal strip arching over her fingers to the butt of the grip. 

"Miss Whittenfield are you sure about that?" a student's wary voice spoke up after he cleared his throat. "Beginning students are only supposed to work with the Foil swords."

__

Miss Whittenfield's head snapped towards the poor boy, her gaze a mental lashing before she collected herself and stared cockily back at Serena's nervous form. "Nonsense. She can use a Sabre--can't you?" 

Serena couldn't worm any sound out of her throat, but her nose flared in humiliated anger, lapis-blue eyes, though panicked, staring daggers at the girl. How dare she put her in this situation! That girl k_new_ she had never even held a sword before! The Whittenfield girl seemed silkily amused by Serena's heated look, slipping on her mask and into position and murmuring a smooth, mocking, "On guard."

Serena's hands were suddenly very cold and sweaty in the gloves, her mind racing dizzily--didn't the teacher say something about needing a calm, level head while fencing? The thought grated on her, for she was anything but. Awkwardly, she tried to edge her feet into the correct on guard position, staring at and attempting to imitate her opponents seemingly perfect one. Right foot in front, pointing forward… the left behind. She scrutinized the Whittenfield girl's feet, nervously breathing. No, she had to twist her left foot further to the side. Her eyes flickered to her opponent's arm and sword so she could access her own arm's placement, but suddenly there was a shout and the sword she was trying to observe lunged at her like a snake.

Startled, she jumped back with a cry, her heart suddenly racing as she realized her time was up. Clumsily, she tried blocking the parade of attacks--parrying, she thought the teacher might have called it. Oh, she didn't care what it was called; she only wished that she were better at it! Her stomach was dancing in her throat, her legs and arms notably shaking as she scooted up and down the strip. She was retreating too much! The panicked thought struck her, but she could hardly find a way to advance and was too distracted by the whir of swords. Her hand was beginning to hurt from the force of the other blade she had to block. 

In her mind, she knew she would loose, but she bit her lip and struggled to put up a good fight, suddenly and recklessly advancing. She was startled to find the girl retreating and it was only a split second later before a student supervisor cried halt, signaling that _she_, Serena, had somehow gained a point. Bewildered, she searched for her opponent's eyes through the mask, unwary at the sudden viciousness she sensed in them. Following the girl's lead, Serena returned to her original place near the middle of the strip for the chaos to start again--only more painfully.

Serena was startled to find that her opponent's attacks had suddenly turned ruthless, bruising taps on Serena's legs and arms. She was at a loss to defend herself, clumsily retreating. 

Raye's eyes had gone ice hard as she narrowed them, locking into an all high keenness and focus. It was a familiar state she found herself in as she fenced--her mind high-tuned and sharp, expertly in command of her moves as she became the pris de fer, the dueler in command of the foot work and attacks in amazing grace. To put it lightly, it was a state she went in when she was up against a worthy opponent. She tried to tell herself that this sorry excuse was far from worthy, but some subconscious level switched her modes. 

Most fencers would receive a red card for the reckless manor she was fencing at present without regard to her opponent's safety, but this was her turf and no one would ever give her such a thing. Thus, she had no qualms in the viscous way she attacked. Her mind was clear and unfeeling, centered on inflicting humiliation. 

Her opponent, desperate, lunged to attack. The silly girl was trying to attack as if with a point-sword. Her lunge was admirably quick thrusted, Raye had to admit, but the girl was clumsy in her recovery position, leaving herself open for attack and Raye was not merciful.

Serena yelped, the sound a sharp painful cry as she fell wounded on her back. Winded she struggled for breath on the ground, scrambling to unstrap her mask and let it roll on the floor before nursing her left elbow where a lightening of aches pounded. Her chest heaved in deep breaths as she dropped her head back onto the hard floor and squeezed her eyes shut against the inflammation of tears. When she squinted her glassy eyes open, her stomach coiled in frustration and hurt, humiliation burning at her face. The audience of students were shaking their heads and laughing at her, commending the steely Miss Whittenfield for showing the new girl her place. Serena's limbs shook embarrassingly as she gingerly rose when the fencing teacher suddenly appeared and barked whether she was seriously hurt. 

With a tender pride, she shook her head at him and turned her gaze towards the seemingly worshipped girl of the school who stood ramrod straight, her silky black hair rolling down her back and waist as she had removed her mask. The girl met her gaze with a stoic expression. 

"Excellent win, Miss Whittenfield," a deep voice praised, and Serena tugged her attention back to the teacher, feeling as if a storm of ice water had collided with her as her muggy mind realized his words as he continued to acclaim the girl's techniques. Even Serena, with her novice knowledge, was definite that the Whittenfield girl should have been penalized somehow for her inflicting attacks. God, she was going to be dizzy, Serena thought as she stared at the fencing teacher and the raven-haired senior, her eyes dawning in a painful realization of the truth of Amy's theatrical-seeming words and her mouth agape. 

Ray stood unfazed by her teacher's approval, simply watching the blonde's struck look. The blonde girl suddenly turned and pried through the crowd, her teary eyes cast on the floor as the students eyed her get-away. Would the girl transfer schools? Return to where she came from? Raye's eyes drooped, uncaring as she began to tug off her gloves. All so, it would be for the better. Serenity Blake certainly did not belong at Whittenfield Academy.

****

* * *

Emotionally wounded, Serena hugged her arms as she walked on the sidewalk home, her brief case hanging from her shoulder. Her excitement had long ago been lost. Whittenfield was amazing, make no doubt, but she felt like a peasant trying to pass herself off in the king's court. Though she had only made a few friends at her old school, she had felt comfortable--no one made her feel like she didn't belong. The scene from fencing class also grated on her like a fresh wound. 

Spirits low, she kicked at a stone in her path for almost a block, knowing she would have to put up a good front for her mom's sake. Not knowing why, she raised her eyes to her right, slowing to a stop. As sullen as she was, she couldn't ignore England's beauty, so different from her hometown in New Jersey. The air was fresh and fragrant, just enough of a chilly nip to signal autumn's arrival. The lands, however, still seemed to be lost in summer, Serena thought, peacefully gazing at the manicured grounds she found that loomed to her right. 

A beautiful myriad of structures peeked in the distance. It looked like another school--at least one like Whittenfield Academy. A butter-yellow butterfly flittered above a row of rose bushes with creamy white petals and then over a grove of tall, sun-speckled hedges. A reluctant smile creased at her lips. It was just the thing she needed to lift her spirits. She turned and stepped onto a pebble-stone path.

****

* * *

Darien Bainbridge felt weary as he walked down the corridor of Bainbridge Academy. Milling students quickly moved out of his way, boys giving respectful bows and greeting him as due to the student president and girls sending flirtatious smiles or wistful looks. 

He had the respect of his peers, he had no doubt. He even had the respect, or fear, of the students at Bainbridge's lifetime rival, Whittenfield Academy. But he also had no doubt that should some of the students from Bainbridge meet with Whittenfield's notorious student president that they would behave out of the same fear-induced respect. It was the council members themselves that were reckless in their manner to each other. Just as country's had their chosen army and leaders to fight their battle, so the two schools had in their student councils. To single out lesser students to gang up on was low--even for Seiya Whittenfield.

Darien returned smiles out of politeness as he made his way through the campus to his favored area, though his mood remained sour. Damn Whittenfield school. He was certain it was the cause for all of his problems. His mind kept reconjuring the scene he came upon the other day. Two Bainbridge students had unsuspectingly found themselves surrounded by ill-intended students of Whittenfield. It was no where near a fair fight. When he showed up, the Whittenfield students had turned decidedly wary and backed off, but that hadn't stopped Darien's blood from boiling.

The crisp foliage around him was welcoming, and he eased his mind by journeying down familiar paths. Soon the white roses, Bainbridge's symbolic flower, caught his vision. They were the head gardener's pride and joy; just short of a miracle, the old man managed to keep them alive nearly all season. Darien gave a gentle, contented sigh and made towards the roses when he stopped abruptly, looking up to his side with a puzzled frown. Something notably red had passed his vision. He turned the corner, his eyebrows raising high at the sight.

A student from Whittenfield was innocently wandering down the paths of Bainbridge's grounds, her hand lifting here and there to touch a flower bloom or statue. There was no mistaking Whittenfield's scarlet uniform. He watched the girl quietly for a moment before his curiosity won out. Normally, a Whittenfield on campus grounds made him instantly guarded, and for good reason, but the girl was genuinely admiring the gardens. 

Darien stepped forward, hands clasped behind him as he tried for a casual voice. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss?"

The girl turned around startled and Darien at first was sure she'd make a hasty getaway at being caught on her rival's territory. However, she only stared up at him with lovely blue eyes. Against his nature, Darien found himself swimming in the striking depths of her vision, quiet taken by her flaxen skin, slight perk nose, and wide but full pink mouth, all framed by streams of golden hair. He had always been quite averse to blondes, which is why his bahaviour disturbed him. He found them undeniably stereotypical. 

"W-what?" the girl's soft, confused voice finally fluttered to his ears and he shook himself from his daze. 

He sent her a queer look and gestured plaintively at their surroundings. "I questioned if there was something I could help you with."

She returned his queer look and with deliberate slowness she shook her head. "No… thank you." The thank you seemed tagged on as an afterthought as she turned and continued walking down the path.

Pulling his straying gaze away from the girl's creamy legs, he frowned at her back. Unable to let the matter rest, he proceeded after her. As the student president, it was of course his duty. At least that was his excuse as he hovered behind her, stumbling over what to say. 'Are you a spy' certainly didn't cut it. 

Suddenly she turned, startled to find him so close. She stepped back, her pretty blue eyes guarded as she accessed his presence a bit more thoroughly. "Perhaps I should ask if I can help you with something. Or are you taken with the occupation of shadowing people?" She rose a slim brow, a spark of fire in her gaze. 

Darien mirrored her reaction of lifting his brow. What a strange girl. She clearly had no idea who he was else she would never—a thought suddenly struck him and he tilted his dark head at her, his own gaze quizzical. "Do you realize where you are?"

The girl actually appeared chastised, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks. Her glassy eyes rolled around their pleasant surroundings a bit warily before turning back to him. She reluctantly shook her head.

Darien leaned back on his feet, glad that the mystery was solved. The girl had just not realized she wandered onto unsavory grounds—though that was still odd in itself. All students made a point not to go near their rival's campus, unless of course with ill intention. Darien smiled gently to help ease the blow of his next words, for she would surely be upset with herself when she realized where she was. He waved an arm around. "This is the campus of Bainbridge Academy."

The girl gazed up at him, her face and eyes utterly blank. He patiently waited for his words to sink in, but the odd expression never left her. "Oh..." The word she finally spoke disappointed him. He decided to wait a moment more. A glimmer of comprehension dawned in her widened eyes. "Oh," she said again, but it didn't sound nearly as lost and drifted as before and she spoke on. "Am I not allowed here, then?" She ducked her face that grew flushed. "Here I am questioning why you're following me! You could have simply told me…" 

"No, you are free to be here," Darien murmured through his onslaught haze of confusion as he peered at the girl. He shook his head to help clear his mind. "You're allowed here… Just perhaps not welcome." 

A notable transformation took place. The girl's whole body seemed to stiffen and come to full height, her eyes icing over stared at him with daggers, her soft pink lips tightening together. Darien quickly accessed his words for something that would have offended her, but was left at a lost. It was common knowledge that a student from the rival school would not be welcomed on campus grounds. 

Serena could barely breath as she stuck her chin high in the air and fought tears. Oh, she hated this place! Should she be surprised to be snubbed by yet another person? But it was still one person too many, and since this student was clearly from a different school, she let herself be reckless. "Look, I don't care if you're the prince of England, you have no right talk to me like this! I have spent this whole crazy day getting snubbed by students and teachers as if I was a weed on their campus, and I've _had_ it. They bloody well know how to treat people better in America! If this is the behaviour of "high society" than I would gladly be penniless." Serena gasped for breath after her final declaration. Those feelings had been rumbling around her all day and it felt like heaven to say them! She felt… invigorated, as if _she_ were the one on top of the world and not these pompous people. 

She moved to swing around and march proudly out of the gardens when something caught her… Damn her for looking at his eyes! They were a deep, stormy blue, large and blinking from surprise at her passionate speech and something akin to compassion or admiration reflecting in them. No! She didn't want to see that. Feeling as if her moment of high-flying spirit had fallen back into her awkward and uncertain body and mind, she whipped around and made a hasty retreat. She didn't like what she saw in the boy's eyes. It would mean that she had clearly overstepped her bounds by saying what she did. 

She had been so certain that he would just… glare at her, or at least regret his behaviour. Then she could have been feeling quite pleased right then and not struggling with her own regret! Her words had bordered on being cruel however right they were. It was a little too late to rethink on whether he deserved it. She was just so tired of being snubbed. 

This was going to be her new life for some time, for she most definitely couldn't ask her mother if they could move back. Her mother was so happy just to be on her husband's homeland; it made her feel closer to him. But further, that would be a very cowardly thing to do and that was on thing she was not! Serena squared her shoulders and sucked in a breath as she made her way home, a light flashing in her eyes. Tomorrow would be different. Watch out, Whittenfield! A weed may be among their roses, but she would not be stepped on.

****

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I'll have you know that I spent the whole of one morning researching fencing (stuffed my head with history, the basics, the different swords, positions, terms, rules, I did!)--aren't you just blessed by such a dedicated author? LOL. Really though, I'm going to try my best to make this a wonderful story. If anyone knows a lot about England and wants to give me some tips--please contact me and do so. The same goes with if there's an error in something related to fencing. I have, as you may have noticed, taken the liberty to change some characters. I had to give Amy hazel eyes… It was just nagging at me that too many main characters in this story had blue eyes! Serena, Darien, Seiya, Raye (I might've given her violet contacts, but I needed her to resemble Seiya)--and it didn't help that three of those had the combination of black hair and blue eyes all ready. 

Sorry if I offend anyone with twisting Raye or any other characters around for the story--if you've read any of my other work, you'd know she's one of my favorite of the senshi, but the story simply doesn't call for many nice people! ^_^;;;

I don't have direct plans for Mina or Lita in this story--I will add them only at my own discretion if I can find what place they have. I have things vaguely planned out but feedback on ideas to think about would be wonderful. I'll be gone until June 1st and hope to return with new chapters. For now, thank you for reading and I hope you will enjoy this story! ~ Star ~  


PS: If you'd like a response to a review, make sure you're signed in or provide your e-mail. ^_^


	2. II Thorny Grounds

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W a r . of . the . R o s e s  
  
_Stargirl_

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. II

The delicate rose threads through  
The storms' leaf-tearing gusts of air  
The threats of trampled rosy petals  
Beneath the bristles' glare

A lark sings in the distance  
Battling confusion twists the grounds  
Perhaps the rose be as crimson as they  
The one that so astounds

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_Finally the next chapter! Ah… a burden off my back. Sorry it took longer than I thought. Thank you goes to Jana for editing this! Then a thank you to Jana, Shari, slntserenity, Jess for helping me to brainstorm and encouragement (slntserenity particularly for helping find the parts that were making the chapter "blah" and for being on my case until I finished ^.~). Everyone's feedback has been so wonderful! There was far more than I had hoped for. Thank you for your support especially. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I've been working on a special digital art for this story! Please check it out at the link listed below. Jess is coaxing me into doing more for the other characters. Do you share her opinion? Please let me know. ^_^ _

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* * *

The morning dawn came with a soft, steady drizzle, the sound dwelling in Serena's ears as she woke in her bed. A blue haze encompassed her closet-sized room, stuffed animals, music boxes, and other such figurines cast in shadow from where they sat cramped upon the shelves. 

She stared bleary-eyed up at the ceiling, her fogged mind playing over images from her dream. With every minute that dragged by, the dream was blurring and shattering, flying into oblivion as dreams tended to do. She frowned, fighting to remember what it had been. She rolled through her memory, piecing together an image of her school. It had been some form of a ghostly nightmare. She had been walking in the school, but the school had been grander, the corridors even larger than possible. It had been dark, everything cast in shadows by the moonlight. Crimson roses had crept over every surface, mingling with shrouds of ivy in their tyrant reign on the building. Needle-sharp thorns tipped with red had glared from every rose's weedy stem. 

Serena turned over and buried her face in her pillow as she fought a grown that rolled in her throat. She didn't want to remember any more, but the dream resurfaced anyway. She could still feel that cold, small feeling that had wallowed in her stomach as she had walked over the stone floor in her scarlet uniform, her shoes echoing off the surface. Columns rose like giants to the sky-like vaulted ceilings. Voices had started ringing, tearing away the thick silence with whispers and echoes. Every rude comment, every scorning voice, every threat, every humiliating word to be encountered... some had been spoken to her for real, coming back to haunt her. Other words had transpired from the abyss of her mind, the truth and false ringing along side by side in a festering choir, blurring into one painful entity of sounds so it had been impossible to determine the difference between them.

She had started running. Nothing had been the same. Entranceways that should have led outdoors had led down another labyrinth of corridors; the classroom doors were old-fashioned and locked like dungeon doors. The thought could almost sound humorous, but it had been too dark and haunting for her to laugh. There had been something else in the dream, she thought, no longer trying to block it out. She had swerved under an archway, startled to find a room with an enchanted garden and an unexplained hovering glow of light. The ceiling had still arched high above, but her feet had stepped from the flagstone floor to grass and then to gravel path. 

"Can I help you with anything?" A smooth male voice had swept over her with a feeling of deja vu. She had turned slowly to see the last thing she remembered from the dream: ocean blue eyes shrouded by ebony hair. 'Why did he have to be in the dream?' she thought sulkingly, fingers curling into her pillow as she peeked back into her room. In her dream, happiness had swelled inside her as she had heard his voice and turned to see him. It was sad considering her real meeting with the guy and that she had no connections with him in any way. Still, his presence in the dream bothered her and she couldn't fathom way. "It's because it's pathetic," she mumbled into her pillow. She rolled onto her back with a yawn, stretching her arms until they hit protruding shelves. With her mind clearing of the cobwebs of sleep, a scowl dragged at her lovely face. It was time to face the real Whittenfield Academy. 

****

* * *

The English Professor stared across his students with pale eyes, silence reigning across the room as the students waited. With a wrinkled frown, the man's gruff voice spoke the single word with a royal flair. "Dismissed."

Serena let her breath escape, slowly gathering her second-hand books with worn coverings and faded gold emblems into her bag as the students around her piled out with a dignified order. Her desk screeched as she stood, earning her a beady gaze from the professor where he hunched over his work. All of the teachers, she found, had this superior, wise look soured by disdain towards all those considered lower. 'They were no better than the students,' she thought bitterly, making a hasty retreat into the hall. 

Her tongue peeked out to dampen her dry, pink lips as she turned to walk down the corridor. Frosty blue eyes flittered about, careful to never make eye contact. The heels of her black shoes clattered against the hard floor; in her mind, her footsteps seemed oddly loud, as if signaling her presence to all of Whittenfield! With stern determination, however, she kept her face void of emotions, her back arched to the breaking point of stiffness, and small chin lifted. 

It was apparent that many now knew of her from the fencing incident. Whereas yesterday she had been met with indifference, today she was spurned by unwelcome looks. She walked past them--all of them, trying not to watch their stares and secret smiles as she clenched her finger's over her bag's handles. With a lonely ache in her chest beneath the encasement of resolve, she fled down the halls and out two ornate doors to the courtyards that spread between the buildings, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of scrutinizing her. 

She drew in a tight breath as she stood there, listening to the rain for a moment. Spirit calming, she broke out into a leisurely pace through the walkways with sheltering overhangs that skirted the courtyard, her mind lulling peacefully. A robin shaking its feathers as it landed on a branch nearby, shattering glistening raindrops with a chirp. Her eyes softened. It was nice not having to scramble around looking around for her next class as she had done the day before. 

The grounds were void of people--but then the nip and the damp air might have led them to make use of the inner corridors for the day. All for the better. Serena was content to forget their existence even for a few moments, with only the rain's whisper and the heels of her shoes against the stone path to hang listlessly in her ears.

A smile even peeled across her pink lips as she thought of the timid, but nonetheless friendly, girl from fencing, an unhelped spark of triumph flickering though her. She couldn't wait to tell the girl how wrong she had been. There was nothing to worry about. She had to admit that for a brief time she had worried about standing up to the raven-haired princess of Whittenfield, but after the first two classes it seemed the emotion had been in vain. 

Serena's mind was drifting cheerfully. The grass and manicured bushes of the courtyards seemed brighter--greener--than before, glistening with webs of raindrops. She watched ripples spring gracefully in a nearby fishpond as she wandered around the corner to the angled path that continued to frame the courtyard, startled to attention by a sugary greeting. She looked up, her stormy blue eyes taking in a lean, poised girl with a beautiful waterfall of crimson hair who stood before her, dark lashes silkily drooped and lips in a disdainful twist of a smile. 

Wariness struck Serena, her body stiffening and lips thinning as her cerulean gaze swept across the four other girls that flanked the red-head's sides, their sly smiles festering inside her in warning. Serena turned her gaze back to the girl, her expression bland as her hands fisted at her sides. She raised her chin, finding her voice had steeled. "Can I help you with something?" 

The girl remained smiling, tilting her head whimsically. "Rubbish like you don't belong on this campus," she finally murmured.

Serena bristled, trying to take calm breaths even as her lapis-blue gaze narrowed. "I am not rubbish."

The girl continued on as if Serena hadn't spoke. "Your whole family is poor as rats, aren't they?"

Every muscle within Serena's body tensed to the point of aches. Her eyes stung with angry tears as she drew in a sharp breath. She tried to speak through the knot in her throat. "And I gather your whole family is as high-headed as you!"

"Are you saying you're better than us?"

"No," Serena snapped. "I'm saying you aren't any better than me."

The girl's eyes blazed, her luxurious smile growing stiff and forced. "But we are. You're out of your league here, Serenity Blake. If you don't believe that then you are the most pathetic, foolish creature I have ever met." The girl looked down for a moment, clucking her tongue. "You think you're the first, do you?" she challenged. "There have been many just like you--nobodies who thought they could change the world. You see, you are just a nobody, and you are even more of a nobdoy if you believe standing up to Miss Whittenfield could change that." 

Emotions struck Serena in her gut, swelling and exploding as her hand flew across the girl's cheek. The girl's manicured fingers darted to the side of her face, tentatively touching the angry red that marred her translucent skin as her shocked, lethal gaze leveled on Serena. Serena breathed hard, blood rushing in adrenaline as she stood there trying to gather her wits. 

Her mind a startled numb, Serena was too slow too react to the onslaught of vicious hands around her as the four silent girls sprung. She gritted her teeth against the sparks as fingers dug into her hair and yanked it as she wrestled against the pulls and shoves. Scratches and fingernail imprints blushed her tender skin, the sound of her uniform's rich material ripping and the sight of ornate buttons tumbling to the ground reaching her in the chaos. "Let me go!" she cried, thrashing out at a cocky brunette. 

She had witnessed unfair fights quietly from the sidelines at her old school, but that hadn't prepared her for the desperation dragging at her insides and the wildness springing through her veins and mind as she fought to get loose. Her feet dragged across the pavement when suddenly the harsh grips shoved and let go and Serena fell out from under the overhang. Her back slammed into the wet ground and her head snapped painfully with a torn gasp. 

Rain pounded onto her like cold knives, plastering her hair and uniform to her body as she struggled to push herself up on the grass. Water glided over her face and she shivered under the icy rain as her body temperature seemed to run degrees lower. She dug her foot in the ground and tried to rise, a blurred hand reaching through the blanket of rain to clamp over her arm. Her frame shook, her fisted hand lunging to beat against the person as she wiggled to free herself. "Leave me alone," she growled through her gritted teeth. 

A male's low chuckle sent her mind into a whir and her thrashing body to stillness. Her dark lashes fluttered against the drops glistening on them as she peered to get a good look at the blurred form of the person holding onto her. Her breath hitched with a shock of light feelings for some mysterious reason as she saw ebony hair and bright blue eyes above her and thought it was the boy from the garden. Amidst her thinking, the boy pulled her up underneath the shelter of the overhang. 

Her pearly white teeth chattered from the chill inside her, and as her gaze flicked up she beratingly noted her misjudge of identity. Without the obscuring rain she could see that this young man's eyes were silver-glazed, his face softer angled, and his ebony hair sleeked back into a dignified ponytail that reached down his back. 

She was such an idiot! Why did she think it was the boy from the day before? He was a student from a different school. The guy before her clearly wore Whittenfield's rich crimson uniform, though his slacks were black instead of gray and an ornate, long pin was fashioned above the emblem on his coat's breast. The black slacks signaled him a senior, though she couldn't say as much for the pin. 

What a sight she had to make just then--a cold, wet, wreckage. Her arms dropped heavily to her side, her knotted gold hair tumbling around her face and ripped and torn uniform. She looked away from the young man before her, her eyes landing on the girls with surprise. They all just stood there like statues, their faces white as ghosts', and their red-haired leader looking particularly shaken up as they gazed at the young man in something akin to horror. 

Serena's eyes continued their trail around, catching on the forms of two lanky senior boys lounging around a little ways away with grim, shrewd expressions. All of them seemed to be waiting for the senior who had helped her onto her feet to move or speak, but he only stood there with cool composure, his unreadable eyes transfixed on her. She drew in a slow breath, soaked, cold, and very wary, and did the first thing that sounded good to her. She pursed her lips, curled her fingers at her sides, and barreled down a path away from them.

She stared across the grounds with the mist-shrouded old buildings and the aging stone statues that sprouted among the wet foliage. A faint river of emotions streamed through her, a startled, cold vein of blurred feelings. Lithe footsteps reached her ears through the soft, shattering sounds of rain and she felt dizzy all over. She wound through the labyrinth of pathways that were sheltered by the overhang, just trying to forget. After awhile she got tired of trying to escape the footsteps. She was tired of everything, really. Tired of the school, of the people, of walking, of being cold. She turned to face the person who had been following her, not quite knowing what to make of the young man. 

Seiya Whittenfield stepped up to the water-drenched blonde with a faint smile touching his lips. He took a hold of her hand, his warm fingers stroking her damp, frigid ones, his eyes never leaving the girl's. His black eyelashes crept over his silver-blue orbs and he leaned over her hand, lifting it to brush his lips. When he straightened, he had yet to release her hand. Her body stood loosely before him--not tense, though not reacting to his charms. Her wide, blank eyes said she was still trying to figure him out. 

It was unfortunate for her that his thoughts and feelings never surfaced to be scrutinized by others. They only saw what he wanted them to see, and at that moment in time Serenity Blake would only find his charm--at least until he figured out what he wanted to do with her. Noted, she was sickeningly poor and had challenged a member of the student council's authority, but something intrigued him about her. 

His clear gaze landed appreciatingly on the siren she made. Her skin looked china pale; her matted hair curled comely over her face in a tarnished-gold hue. Where her scarlet uniform tore open in the front, her blouse plastered to her figure quite nicely. Her flaxen complexion brought out her striking blue eyes, but more temptingly her ruby lips.

His crystal eyes shadowed with his inner thoughts, but he covered them with a smile. "Come. I'll get you dry," he told her, turning to walk down another path. He stopped, feeling her presence not with him. He tilted his head, gazing back at her through the corner of his eye. She hadn't moved from her place, like a wet angel wary of following a demon. Oh, but he had many demons. Indeed though, she did not need to know that unless he wished it. He flashed an assuring smile. "Follow me or not, but you are likely to freeze if you don't."

Her turned back around, his eyelids drooped and ears tuned to his surroundings. After a moment he heard a small step and then another. Triumph flowed easily through him as he began walking again, knowing that she was following close behind.

****

* * *

She was more out of it than she had thought, Serena realized driftingly as she walked. Her being felt hollow. All she wanted to do was go home and curl beneath her covers and sleep. She followed the boy without question into an ornate building she had never been in before. Gold trimmings adorned the artistically designed walls and ceilings, scarlet red carpets stretcheding out on the floors and trailing up the center of a winding staircase. She shadowed behind him up the steps, numbly entering a spacious room with a heirarchy of floors and elegant furnishings. Cathedral-like windows flanked the walls, welcoming the ghostly pale light. The boy left her standing there before she could speak.

He returned within moments with a brand-new girl's uniform folded in his arms. She accepted the clothes graciously, murmuring a soft, "Thank you," as she got a good look at him. Crystal-blue eyes stared back at her, silky ebony hair swept back into a long, dignified ponytail. Somehow, in her weary mind, his light eyes darkened to a stormy indigo, wisps of black hair materializing to shroud a face which had broadened from its almost feminine shape. The boy from the garden. 

Shocked at herself for her imaginings, she stepped back, stifling a gasp. The senior in front of her smiled, seeming to have mistaken her actions. She did not correct him, trying to fight a blush as she escaped into a bathroom he gestured to. That was the second time her mind played that trick on her! Blasted, he had to be the dream, she thought scathingly.

She sighed, deciding to forget the matter. Her underclothes were still damp, but by drying the rest of her chilly skin and slipping into the new uniform, she was decidedly warmer. Meekly, she stepped out of the room. She prepared herself to thank the boy again as he walked over, but her attention fluttered elsewhere as she caught sight of a grand archway of glasswork around two doors that led to an expansive balcony. For a moment she gazed through the glass doors, mind lost in the rain that streaked through the stormy air.

"You know... It wasn't a very good idea to challenge Raye Whittenfield," Seiya murmured, watching her carefully.

Serena lifted her gaze to him. "I'm not afraid of her," she said softly with a simple tone. 

Seiya was silent for a moment, his stare thorough and making Serena's breaths thin in her throat. Finally he cocked his head with a whimsical smile. "No, you're not," he consented. His hand lifted, knuckles brushing down the side of her face. "But then again, some fear can be a good thing."

Serena frowned in response to his words, though her attention dwindled by the presence of his hand hovering over her cheek. She had never had the quality of confidence--or at least it had felt that way to her all through her life as she had swept quietly through the years at her previous school. She hadn't been a nerd--just a girl who no one paid attention to. They hadn't bothered her, and she hadn't bothered them. That was how it had worked for so long. Whittenfield Academy stroked the stubborn fire in her, but this boy's attention to her left her utterly dazed and witless. 

"You're beautiful."

Surprise made her dizzy. Serena's gaze veered back to the young man standing patiently before her, pink staining her cheeks from her daydreaming and his words. Her large cerulean eyes stared at his face in disbelief. "You're joking," she muttered, wariness wandering through her blood. Her skin had to be deathly pale, her face washed of any makeup, and her hair a tangled damp mess. These things, she was quite sure, did not merit a handsome young man drawn to say she was beautiful.

Serena dragged in a breath as he slowly leaned his head down. The seconds were lost to the distant shattering of rain, her blood seeming to thicken and make her drowsy as she breathed. Oh God... she thought distantly. His lips neared and in the last possible moment when his warm breath fanned her face, she twisted her face away, hand raising to his chest to stop his advance as she stepped back.

The boy's lips dropped open, his brows raised. Serena fidgeted under his widened gaze as he blinked. Still looking across to some object in the room, Serena attempted to speak. "I--I'm late for class. I--The teacher will scold me as it is." Self-bitterness prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. She hated it when she stuttered.

The boy nodded slowly, drawing back. "All right. I'll walk you there. The teacher will not bother you."

Serena blinked, her face as vast and vacant as the grayed skies. His words might have been a different language for all the response they induced--until a little trigger of thought tipped off in her mind. If it wasn't for the boy's telling uniform, she would wonder if he were from a different school than her. His vision of Whittenfield at least seemed quite far from hers! She shrugged away her thoughts, opting to silently walk with the boy to her next class. He was more than likely just trying to be encouraging.

She braced herself once in front of the classroom door with the boy towering behind her. She meekly turned the brass knob and peeked inside. 

"Miss Blake!" The teacher's gruff cry shook her as she straightened. "Tardiness is a sign of blatant disrespect that I will not have in my class."

"May I apologize sir for this student's lateness?" Seiya asked as he stepped into the room with a flourish. "It is my fault."

Serena could hardly grasp the transformation that the teacher went through. The old man nearly choked on his own breath, worn eyes enlarging as he scrambled for words. "I didn't realize... Yes, yes. By all means, the girl is excused." Drawing a breath, he waved Serena in an encouraging manner to take a seat. "Please join us, Miss Blake, and the class may be continued."

Serena hesitated, sending a questioned, bewildered stare back at Seiya who merely smiled and nodded at her. She walked tentatively down one of the rows, aware of the onslaught of strange looks the students gave her as she claimed a desk. Her gaze fell to her lap and she was, for all her bewilderment, neither lectured by the teacher for her absence of attention or insulted by a single classmate all through the class.

****

* * *

Serena stood amongst the students, her mind numb to the pairings the fencing teacher regally proclaimed for the day's practice. She had wandered through lunch and her other classes with a ghost-like demeanor. Her other classes had met her with the normal cold shoulders, and the teachers weren't nearly as forgiving for her wandering mind as the one had been. That class... She puzzled over it now. They had acted so differently, and she was certain it had been due to the presence of the boy. He was just a senior though, right?

A sigh blew out her lips. At lunch she had thought of and quickly threw away the idea to bring the incident with the girls in the morning to the office. Perhaps at her old school she could have. She had a cold feeling that Whittenfield authorities would either shrug the matter off or the school's treatment of her would leap to unbearable lengths. The only thing she had anticipated that day was meeting the quiet Amy at fencing class, but now even that little joy sank to her stockinged feet. She could glimpse the dark-haired girl across the room and had waved, but knew the chances were slim that the teacher would randomly pair her with the girl. 

Distantly, Serena heard her name called by the teacher and lifted her head to catch who her partner would be. 

"Serenity Blake and--"

"I'll pair with her," a cool voice floated over the fencers, cutting off the teacher's resounding voice and stilling all the students in their places. The sky's pale light, gently sun-kissed after the morning's rain, spread into the massive facility from the tall windows. Silence draped in the room like a tense echo after a choir of gasps and whispered exclamations. The teacher gaped after being interrupted.

Bewildered to no end, Serena desperately searched for the speaker, her daffodil-blond hair flying with her head as her large azure eyes scrambled over the students. Her gaze landed on Amy from across the room, frustration teasing her as she saw the mousy girl gasp and grow paler than normal. She tugged her eyes away, turning to see students around her part for a young man in fencing attire who strolled towards her. She choked on a gasp, seeing the ebony hair sleeked back into a long ponytail and immediately recognizing him as the boy from that morning. 

Serena craned her neck to stare at up him and met his cool eyes as he as he stepped beside. He nodded his head in hello before turning to the fencing master with a raised eyebrow. This teacher had much the same response as the teacher earlier that morning.

"Mr.--Mr. Whittenfield," the teacher struggled out before clearing his throat. "Yes, yes. Of course."

Numbed by shock, Serena followed Seiya when he tugged at her hand, feeling all eyes digging into her form. She mindlessly wrapped her hand around the Foil sword he handed to her, her lovely blue eyes large and sharp as she stared at him. Whittenfield! The name ricocheted in her hazy mind, a twisting weed in her stomach. It was beginning to make sense, she realized with dread. He was the notorious student president--Raye Whittenfield's brother. So what in the whole of bloody England was he doing?

****

* * *

Raye Whittenfield's ice-blue eyes lost their constant shield of indifference, growing enormous with shock, rage, and confusion. Her gut coiled in frustration at the detestable, festering feelings. She felt frazzled, her slim body trembling with the tension. She drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, glaring at the blonde twit who stood with her brother on a fencing strip. Her sharp mind was at a loss, startled to the point of alarm at the unexpected action of her brother. 

She stood tall, her body wound tight as her slender glove-clad fingers dug into her palms at her sides. Her face was pale, red lips a taught line. Her brother had seen what happened the day before! He knew Serenity Blake was a dangerous line to be crossed. He was too bloody reckless and cocky for his own good. Raye had always held near to the same views on everything as her brother, understanding him with equal respect... but _this_? Irritated, Raye swiped at a strand of raven hair, carefully watching her brother's form as he leaned over the new girl, gently helping her position her arms. 

"Who is that?" a shocked whisper from a nearby junior exclaimed, the words tingling in Raye's ears.

"Serenity Blake... That's the girl from yesterday!"

The other girl gasped. "You... you mean, the one who challenged Miss Whittenfield? Are you sure?"

The whispers from the girls festered in Raye's ears, the soft bewilderment in their innocent conversation storming around within her and igniting a fresh bout of anger. 

Bristling, she flew over the floor like a revenging dark angel, anyone in her path gasping and scrambling out of her way. Seiya was still over the Blake girl, one hand resting on her shoulder, the other on her hand that held the sword. Reaching the two, Raye grabbed onto the blonde and swung her away, turning to her brother with a threatening gaze. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, a growl tracing her voice. 

Seiya returned her gaze mildly with only a glitter of annoyance, raising an eyebrow. "I believe what I do is my own business."

"She insulted me so it's my business too!" Raye snapped. "You're acting like a fool."

"Am I?" Seiya mused with a silent laugh and wry twist of his mouth. "I am doing what I wish to--and I expect to never be questioned. I fear it might be you, Raye, who is acting like the fool. You don't want to make a spectacle of yourself, do you?" Seiya murmured.

Scathingly, Raye knew he was right, their audience's stares bristling over her creamy skin. It had been too outrageous--she had had to act, but her nature forbid her from showing a weakening amount of emotion. She slipped easily into a careless pose, her eyes deadening as if by magic to their icy depths, though the threat that laced through them remained. "Of course not, brother," she returned, locking with his own serious gaze. She gave a gesturing flicker of her eyes towards Serenity Blake, her mouth twisted derisively. "American trash," she murmured, her gaze cold, empty. "You are far, far out of your league." Fire sprang to the blonde's eyes.

"That's enough, Raye," Seiya drawled with a final tone. Amusement smoothed over his features and he nodded obligingly. "If you will excuse us," he said with a smile, turning dismissively from her. Raye glowered for a moment before regaining control over her temper. The only thing worse than losing her control was for others to witness it. 

Serenity Blake had remained quiet throughout the siblings' exchange, but Raye felt the girl watching her while unconsciously cradling her left arm that had been injured during her fall in the fencing match. A glimmer of pleasure tucked into Raye's mind and she relished it as she twirled around and glided away, trying to forget her confusion and anger. Whatever her brother was up to, the girl was on dangerous grounds, she thought as she reclused herself to an empty entranceway. She leaned against the wall, crossing her legs and arms coolly with her chin lifted high, silent as she continued to watch the fencing pair.

There had been another blonde in the lower class starting the school year before who had stood up to the council. Seiya hadn't hesitated to strike her down unmercifully, initializing the school's notorious hazing until the broken girl had dropped out of school. There was nothing different about this girl, Raye thought with a pensive scowl. He hadn't volunteered to pair with Serenity Blake to humiliate her further in duel as he was casually giving the girl pointers. 

Within she had calmed, but her gaze was cold and shrewd, her mouth a tight line. She watched like a black panther, silent and brooding with a threatening gleam in her eyes. Her rim of ebony lashes drooped. There was a weed coiling inside her, snaking through her perfect calm. Not having the answers was what she hated above all things.

****

* * *

All eyes followed Serena the next morning as she walked down the hall. The stares were shocked and strange. The students watched her as if she had changed into a different creature entirely. Serena treaded on warily, further confounded when a handful of students politely stepped out of her way to let her view her locker. Serena cocked her head at them, twisting around to gaze once more at her silent audience. Some of their eyes, however, passed by her. Frowning, Serena twirled back around to see where their stares landed. An elegant, long-stemmed rose hung tied by a ribbon that weaved through the slits in the beige door, a velvet crimson of petals swirling in her mind. 

__

.:StarInMyPocket.net:.


	3. III Rose of Scarlet

****

W a r . of . the . R o s e s  
  
_Stargirl_

****

. III Rose of Scarlet

Innocent deception hums,  
Gently from a scarlet rose,  
It stirs up ivy and weeds for thought,  
Changing everything she knows.

North and South have flown,  
These smiles seem amiss,  
A bird's trill song echoes far,  
Of a fleeting kiss.

****

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Serenity stood there dumbly for moments, her school briefcase dangling precariously from her slackening fingers. A faint notion inside her stirred her to do something--_anything_. Students milling around still stared, whispers sprung among them like an ocean as she stepped forward. Her fingers brushed over the cool, soft girdle of crimson petals, deftly moving to tug the thin ribbon loose. The rose fell into her waiting hand and she turned, holding it loosely before her. 

Her mind twisted into too many knots for it to possibly think. She had come to school, not knowing what to expect. She felt like an idiot just standing there. Perhaps, though, the one who had given her the rose would come forward? Her eyes grazed over the boys in the crowd. 

Who would give _her_ a rose? She really must have been struck dumb. She could not work her mind into any helpful thought process. The past two days had been more humiliating and degrading for her than ever before--how could that warrant some young man's affections? If anything, he would be risking the school's scorning as well… 

Her cheeks warmed as she turned on her heels and fled down the hall. Student's piled out of her way to let her through, and she felt numb to their whispers. 

Later that hour, Serenity sat curled in a stone nook she had stumbled upon on the school grounds, elevated and shrouded on one side by a wall of ivy. Her arms draped over her bent knees, fingers mindlessly twirling the stem of the elegant red rose. A rose apparently made a season of difference; it changed everything. 

This school was a terrible puzzle. The first day she was snubbed by cold shoulders, the second day she was spurned with open disdain, and on the third… She shut her eyes, letting her head fall to the wall to her right, her cheek resting against the rough, cold stone and trapping little damp leaves. She hadn't meant to play hooky for her first class. She had held her head high despite the buzzing confusion in her mind and had hurried to the classroom. When she arrived there, however, she didn't find a haven from the staring crowds in the halls. A few of the students wished her good morning and then, to top it all off, a normally stoic-faced math teacher welcomed her with an enthusiasm that twisted in her gut from the sheer wrongness of it. She had stood in the doorway dumbly for a moment before backing up and fleeing to her current haven.

Her tired eyes squinted open, the crease of blue peeking down at the rose she tapped against her leg. Her fingers played with it more, fearlessly roaming over the thornless stem and then twirling around the velvety girdle of petals. The rose hardly held a great significance to her, so what about such a beautiful but still simple--and common, she thought--gift merited the change of the whole school?

She remembered back home all the times she had witnessed from the sidelines a girl in the hall squealing in delight at finding a rose or other such trinket at her locker to signal the presence of a secret admirer. Serena hated to acknowledge the nut of happiness burning in a small corner of her, pushed away by her confusion and muddled emotions. It was a feeling of pleasure, a soft joy at receiving a rose at her locker like all the other times she had witnessed of happening to others. This rose, however, did not seem to be an ordinary rose under her circumstances. 

She closed her eyes, giving way to a weary sigh. A bird's voice trilled somewhere from the damp growth, but not even that could calm the thistles and weeds that had seemed to replace her mind. In all of her mulling, she had not yet considered how _much_ difference a single, innocent red rose could make.

* * *

There was something wrong with this school, Serenity reflected, feeling light-headed. Something seriously wrong. She had pried herself out of her hiding spot to face the rest of the days' classes. Despite the school turning out to be such a thorn, she refused to let this new situation give them reason to expel her on account of skipping classes.

But then, things were always more complicated than she tried to will herself to believe. The whispering aside, both students and teachers alike were undeniably courteous to her. Now, under normal circumstances, it would have been a pleasant surprise, but she found it all quite disconcerting. Her insides bristled. Couldn't they make up their minds how to treat her? Would she arrive the next day to be thrown in another loop with the whims of their attitudes? No, if anything, it made the school all the more twisted in her eyes.

She dearly wanted to be invisible throughout that day--become some plant-form and sink into the courtyards' cold beauty. No one, however, was allowing for that. For the seventh time, she skirted away from a breathless greeter. "All right, Miss Blake?"

Her incredulous eyes screwed into blind, murky depths as she barreled down the corridor. Why did _everyone_ know her name? What happened to her being some sort of insect? It had withered away, an annoying voice answered, the one that actually felt pleased with the change. 'Why not accept it as a blessing?' it told her, and she bristled at it. 

On several occasions, she just barely conquered the impulse to throw the rose--that was forever dangling from her fingertips--away. She was convinced that the students were staring at _it_ just as much as at her. In some desperate vein, she felt that if she lost it, this new complication would disappear as if by magic. 

All she knew was that she wanted this day to be over. She wanted to be back in the cramped but homely town-house, sipping rasberry tea with her mum like they had done the first week they had arrived--before Irene started work and Serenity attended her first day at Whittenfield Academy… a day she was increasingly beginning to regret. Whoever gave her this flower, she vowed, would regret it. 

* * *

The swords' soprano clings and clangs rang over the fencers at the end of the school day. Serenity walked through the ocean of duels by white-clad students, having only just arrived. With an artful purpose, she had made sure she was late for class. Following lunch, she had decided to prod at this new situation--test it, so to say. The way to adapt to any situation did, after all, start with knowing exactly what that situation was. She wasn't yet altogether sure of the reasoning and the details of that said situation, but was finding her results a bit intriguing if nothing else.

She thought she would higher the stakes by arriving a good fifteen-minutes late. It was, she admitted to herself warily, wondering if she was pushing it to far, a dangerous idea to challenge one of the most unfair and cruel teachers she had ever known--but she had decided to take the risk. It was all for the good of her sanity. 

So, squaring her shoulders, Serenity marched across the floor towards where the fencing teacher was savagely bringing a supposedly-inept fencer to tears. Her pulse drummed, and it took her full concentration to purse her lips tightly together, ordering herself that under _no_ circumstances was she to attempt excuses when she faced him. Her mouth was feeling particularly traitorous, tongue swelling with the need to plead forgiveness. She reacted to this split-intents in her body by clamping her teeth over her tongue--hard. 

Though she could do nothing for the ashen pallor she was sure her face had acquired, she screwed up her lapis-blue eyes and hardened her expression. She needed to look… impertinent. _Please no_, a tiny voice in the bottom of her stomach cried, quivering at the thought and voting to forget her stupid challenge. She could feign being ill! She surely looked it. There was a happy flutter in her blood at the genius way out, but she stamped out the lit joy with an aggravated, mental scream. _She was doing this_! 

Heart thumping, she approached the fencing teacher, clamping her heels together and waiting for him to finish with a gangly fencer with a whiny, fearful voice. Serenity felt sorry for him, but felt that he had an advantage that she didn't--a fencing mask. Perhaps she should have changed into her fencing attire _first_? But it would have been in vain, for she needed him to see his face. The whole purpose was how he reacted to _her_, Serenity Blake, and not some anonymous late-comer hiding behind a mask. 

There was really nothing to be afraid of, she tried to console herself. For all intents and purposes, this was an experiment--meaning, she should be well emotionally barred from anything this man could dish out to her. How could anything he say hurt her when she was objectively analyzing it? Still, she felt whooly-headed when he finally noticed her presence and turned to her. Her back stiffened, the annoying tiny voices ringing wildly that she could still play sick and pray for mercy. 

She opened her mouth to speak--but what she was about to say, not even she would know, for the teacher, who was fixing her penetratingly with alight gray, silver-specked eyes, face muscles taught, barked a flat, "Your late."

Serenity swallowed, any words that were previously leaping around her tongue sinking to the bottom of her stomach as she waited bracingly for the rest. 

But the rest never came.

To her utter amazement, the dark-tanned, cruelly craiged face gave a curt nod at her, hands clasping behind his back. "Go change then and I'll pair you. Your partner will clue you in." 

Serenity stared at him with a bland expression, mouth quite flapped open. She felt no inner motivation in her to snap out of this numbed state let alone retort. It felt like a raging sea inside her had suddenly changed into an airy, sandy desert. Acknowledging this later, and knowing she she might have gaped at her fencing teacher for eternity, she was very grateful when his baritone voice snapped, with an impatient edge that acquired back some of its normal tone, "_Now_, Miss Blake."

Scrambling to life, she nodded, still dazed, and hurried to the empty lockers. She dropped down onto one of the benches, not moving yet to change into her fencing uniform, eyes sightlessly staring in front of her. 

That… was unexpected. 

When she was able to clear her mind enough, she started to slowly strip and don the white cotton breeches, jacket, and socks with automatic movements, all the while thinking furiously. It was true that all of her tentative challenges to her previous teachers had shown unbelievably patient reactions, but well, she thought they could have just been pushovers. But the _fencing teacher_? She felt a jolt of incredulous inner laughter. Why, him being courteous and forgiving to her was as if the vice president herself was treating her nicely! As soon as she thought that, her eyes looked up to meet her reflection in the mirror, wide as forget-me-nots, a trickle of numbness returning. Really, right then she wasn't all too sure anymore that she could count on the Vice President to still be such a witch. 

She dropped her gaze with a healing release of breath when she stopped short, eyes falling on the red rose she had dropped unknowingly on the floor. With a jolt, she realized she had completely forgotten its existence--which was something since it seemed to be the cause of everything and thus ingrained into the core of her mind. She had also had completely forgotten to observe whether her teacher noticed the rose. She had been too rung up inside over her split desires and then too bewildered to notice anything. 

Reaching down, she picked up the deceptively innocent flower, twirling its leafy stem once with her fingers, and stared hard at it. Was it because of the rose, like it was it seemed to be for all the others? But, she reminded herself, he hadn't been too rude to her the day before when Seiya Whittenfield--she balked.

Ice coursed through her bloodstream in a torrent of revelation. She raced over yesterday's events. In flashes, she saw three terrors of girls gone ashen-faced and stuttering at the student president's arrival, saw the teacher's abrupt change when Seiya stepped forward--the class' numb stares following her to her seat, and then of the fencing teacher's own reaction when Seiya had declared that he was pairing with her. 

Had she really been such an idiot? With all of her mullings and contemplations, could she really be _that _thick-headed? She recalled one of her own incredulous thoughts after the rose's arrival. What secret admire would have risked giving _her_ a rose? Unless, she thought with biting clarity, it wasn't secret--and wasn't a risk. 

With a willful burst, she shoved on her gloves, grabbed her mask and joined the room of duelers, trying to stop her mind from spinning the way that it was. She was too distracted to think to ask the fencing teacher, when he approached her with her sword, to further test this newfound power and request to be partner with Amy, numbly accepting being paired with the boy who she had seen scolded earlier. She wasn't distracted enough, however, to not take notice the absence of a certain student president. 

* * *

"Sweetie, are you sure you're all right?" Irene asked her daughter for not the first time that afternoon with a worried frown. "Really, Lita and I can make due without you. Why don't you go on home?"

Serenity breathed deeply, swiping clean the one of the many circular tables with more vigor and focus than needed. Her vision blurred on the decorative glass vase and yellow carnation. "I'm fine, Mum," she said, a bit exasperated at having to say the words all the time when she was really not certain whether she _was_ fine. She absolutely refused, she thought with furious determination, to bail out on her mum when she was short on help at the small downtown café. 

She had decided to stop by immediately after school, desperate for an environment that would calm her. Upon finding out that both Mum's joint-owner as well as one of the young waitresses, Molly, had been unable to come in that day, she discarded her jacket, rolled up her blouse sleeves, and grabbed a toffee-colored apron, insisting upon staying. Her mother looked tired, dark hair coming undone from its bun, strained lines creasing her attractive face, and hazel eyes weary. 

And her mum was worrying about _her_, Serena thought. But the concern touched her even as she shrugged it off on several occasions for the past few hours. Really, her mum had been coming home late and hadn't had the chance to assess Serena's change in attitude. Was it any wonder why the woman was worried? The last thing she had known was Serenity a happily, excited girl over her first day at a prestigious school. 

At her mum's inquiries, she had told her that school was great in a forced happy voice. Her mother had enough problems; she did not need to know about Serenity 's own. Serenity was able to geniunely tell her mum, though, about Amy Jameson and even managed to crack a few jokes at some of her stuffy professors. And despite her mum feeling bad about Serenity helping when Serena seemed--in her view--to be coming down with something, Serenity thought inwardly that it wasn't as if she wasn't getting anything out of helping. 

Being near her mum, surrounded by small tables and chintz chairs, light spreading in through the glass front where people passed by, and the intoxicating smells of hot cinnamon buns, vanilla, and coffee was very calming. She had been too bewildered and numb during the day. Sinking herself into the café's atmosphere was heaven. It was also a very high plus that it gave her something to take her mind off of besides homework--which would only serve to make her think of school and thus drive her utterly mad. 

It was the times when the café was slow and her mind turned to more unpleasant matters that prompted her mother to ask her how she was feeling. The bells dangling on the front door jingled now and Serena paused, silently sending her thanks heaven-ward for the distraction before turning to the person. She had not anticipated how great of a distraction it would be. 

Ocean blue eyes under a shroud of ebony hair locked with hers, dawning recognition registering in the depths before the young man's handsome lips quirked in a smile. Above the sudden silence ringing in her heart, his languid voice drawled, "Well… fancy meeting you here."

Serena blinked at him, then blinked some more. Being dazed to a stunned and bewildered condition seemed to be an annoying new habit of hers, she thought dimly in her mind, still trying to move or do something. It was _him_--the one who found her at the other school's campus. Her pulse was fluttering wildly. Why was it doing that? She thought desperately, attempting to make her lips to form non-existent words. She had made a fool of herself in front of him!

__

No, a sudden irate voice snapped at her. She was _making_ a fool of herself _now_. That, like magic words, made her mouth clam shut and her head clear. "Hello," she greeted, her voice more curt than she had intended. Realizing this, it softened considerably. She grasped at a polite smile and waved at a seat. "Can I get you something?" 

He raised an eyebrow. Well what, she thought indignantly, had he expected her to say? When he still made no move to sit down, she comprehended a pointed look at her appearance and then at the café and she flushed violently. She was all too aware of her blonde hair swept untidily back--more than likely looking worse than her mum's, her rumpled blouse with sleeves rolled up, and an 

all-telling apron. Of course, she was realizing, coming from a school similar to Whittenfield, he had to be in the upper class--and if that wasn't a clue, than his blatant reaction to finding her working there was. Serenity suddenly straightened, chin lifting haughtily. Well, she didn't care a wit if he knew she was poor! Her voice holding an edge that was none-too professional, she said, "_Sir_." 

It seemed to snap him out of it, but she could swear there was still amusement in those blue eyes--_and_, _he was still not_ _SITTING DOWN_, she thought in mounting irritation. Then, he seemed to decide that she needed to be thrown for another loop that day--which she had _far_ too many of by any person's standards. "Join me," he said, nodding to the table she had silently been begging for him to just sit down at. 

"I'm working," she said promptly, and regretted it instantly for the sardonic look he gave at the clear lack of customers besides himself. "All right," she said through gritted teeth and sat down at the table, folding her arms protectively over her chest and trying not to meet his cocky eyes as he slid into the seat opposite. She would forget _ever_ feeling bad for yelling at him the other day. He deserved every bit of it! 

"What's your name?" 

"Serenity," she replied shortly, still not meeting his eyes and a bit taken back that they hadn't even known each other's names. It seemed to her that if you hated someone, then you knew their name.

"Serenity," he echoed, and the way he tested the sound of it, rolling from a rich, slightly husky voice brought her to unwillingly glance at him. His expression was oddly contemplating for taking in a name. 

Then, realizing that he was seeing her watch him, she sharply turned her head (which, by the way, hadn't seemed to want to budge from its stare), and asked, in a strained voice, "Yours?" more to cover her blubber than from any desire to know his name. 

"Darien," he answered, and before the name could really sink in, his voice drawled in mocking tones, "Serenity then, how about a cappuccino?" 

Her head turned so fast that it responded with an angry kink, but she ignored it, eyes blazing as she met his laughing gaze. Such an innocent question, upon his lips, brought her glowering in her seat. How dare he! She thought furiously. He was playing with her! After going through all that trouble to get her to sit down _now_ he wanted her to play waitress! 

She sat there for a moment, teetering between her professional duty to the café or her pride. Really, what much of a loss could _his_ business be? But then, in greater frustration she realized, while staring at his handsome but thoroughly arrogant face and challenging eyes that he was testing her. So, she stood abruptly, refusing to look at him once again, and marched over behind the counter. She made the cappuccino in such blind fury that she ended up cursing as the scalding coffee spilled across her hand. Grinding her teeth, she concentrated on adding the sweet vanilla powder and coat of cream. 

When she returned to set it before the human-looking creature, she remained defiantly standing even when he asked in his damned smooth voice, "Well--aren't you going to sit?" Ignore him, she chanted to herself. She very much fancied just staring out the window to the cobblestone street until he left. It was really a lost case knowing he was staring at her, though, feeling the heat rise from her neck to her face. So, seeing no other choice, she sat back down. Right then, she would have done anything for Raye Whittenfield's ability to be cool and aloof. 

Across from her, apparently satisfied with her choice to sit, Darien took a mockingly luxurious sip of his cappuccino. His next words sent her blood curdling. "So, you work here?" 

She did _not_ trust herself to speak right then, and opted for a scathing glare… in which he laughed at. He had a very nice laugh--rich baritone with boyish mirth. Catching her own thought, she was quite aghast. Oh, why couldn't he just _leave_? He continued to assess her in that humorous gaze.

"And, you're attending _Whittenfield_ Academy?" he drawled, with a tone that suggested that this was quite unbelievable. 

Fire leapt to her eyes. "Yes. I _am_," she said, voice curt with a razor edge. 

A smile--a SMILE--tugged at his lips at this. "I think you misunderstood that."

"Well, I _don't_," Serenity snapped. "You think Whittenfield Academy is too good for someone like me?" To Serenity's utter disbelief and frustration (what else was new?), he snorted. Ugh! He was so…. so annoyingly--cocky wasn't even a word near loathsome enough to describe him! "I don't find it funny," she gritted out, and for a first, he seemed to genuinely try and calm himself. Rolling her eyes, she demanded "Well?"

Still sorely trying to curve his smile--which, happened to be a very nice smile, not that Serenity cared, of course--he responded, "Well what?" He leaned back in the chair, folding his arms in front of him, his cappuccino, Serenity noted resentfully, forgotten and untouched since his very first sip. 

"Have I misunderstood you?" she asked, impatience hardening her tone. 

"Yes," he said promptly, voice light and good natured. Ha! Good natured.

"So. What. Was. It?"

He leveled her with amused eyes and said, "I don't think I'll tell you yet."

Serenity opened her mouth. She had taken all she could take! It was absurd. How could she even hold her tongue against him when he deserved so thoroughly to be lashed with every foul curse she could think of? If he wanted to go to a café, well then he would just have to _go somewhere else_. And all of this was to explode from her lips, when with the most rotten timing in all of history, her mother swept in from the back with Lita, a tall, oaken-haired girl, shadowing behind her--her mother with innocent mirth at seeing Serenity with a friend, and Lita with a wicked grin that Serenity did not like at all.

"Oh Serenity, honey!" Irene said, "Lita and I just finished unpacking the French croissants; I thought we'd close early. And who is this? A friend from school?" Serenity, temporarily distracted by looking outside, quite startled to find the late afternoon had long been replace by the darkening blue haze of evening, looked to her mother, not knowing what to say. She wished dearly she had thought of something fast when Darien pushed back the chair, stood, and shook her mother's hands. 

"Darien, Ma'am. I'm from Bainbridge Academy but I met your--" he paused, sending Serena a quizzical glance, "daughter?--the other day."

Serenity rose from her seat warily. Truth be told, all her anger had drained to a tentative worry. It was one thing, after all, for him to see her doing what he must consider menial labor, but another for her mother. She caught his gaze, a silent pleading desperate in hers. _Do not say anything to hurt my mum_. _Don't even crack a single joke_. He seemed to pause, lingering his gaze on hers in which--for the very briefest of moments--Serenity thought he might be capable of caring. 

In the least, he stood there good naturedly enough as an oblivious Irene chatted, a very naïve and idiotic Lita _winked_ at Serenity, while Serenity mindlessly went to gather her things. In no time, the café was dark and locked, Lita and Irene starting off down the street, and Serenity left lingering awkwardly with Darien. Grudgingly, she said, "Thanks… for not, um, saying anything to my mum." 

Darien however--who she noticed how tall he was for the first time--didn't react as if he had heard her at all. He nodded at something in her hands. "What's that?"

Serenity blinked and looked down blankly to the red rose. The fact that she hadn't even thought of it since Darien showed up caught her quite off guard. Really, she had forgotten all about her school woes. For some odd reason, just then, Whittenfield didn't seem like reality. Her fingers tightened over the stem, mindlessly crumpling some of the leaves. She didn't know why, but she absolutely could not bring herself to tell him the truth. And pulse fluttering pathetically, she mumbled, "Just picked it from one of the bushes at school today..." 

Why, in heaven's name, was her heart thumping so hard? She fought not to believe that it had something to do with Darien leaning close to her, his warm breath billowing against her ear as he whispered, "It should have been white." 

Serenity thought this was a ridiculous thing to say. She could not think of any other explanation than that he must really fancy white roses--but wasn't given too long to do so for, though he had seemed to be pulling away, his head ducked down and warm, soft lips fleetingly touched her own. In that barest, unguarded moment, something leapt in her chest and a feeling akin to disappointment tugged at her that it had left so fast. It was after he had disappeared down the street that she realized how wrong that thought was. The odd leaping in her chest was from surprise, and the disappointment had to be something else entirely. 

The numbness ebbing away, fire leapt through her blood. How dare he kiss her like that! After the horrible way he had treated her. It was, she concluded, an appalling end to the most distressful day of her entire life. 

______________________________________________

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* * * * * * * * Author Notes * * * * * * * * *

Finally chapter three! And our beloved Darien Bainbridge is back!! Aren't you so 

happy with me at this moment that you can forgive me for the terribly long wait?? I 

apologize that it took so long. I've admitted to being in a bit of a writer's trench for 

awhile. My latest story, Lunar Magic, helped me get into the spirit of writing I think, but 

it hadn't seemed to help me for my other stories. I got out of the house on Friday though

to go to the beach and there I forced myself to scribble some stuff down for the story 

no matter how horrible it was. It still felt like I was trying to walk against a river's 

current, but I was proud of myself.  


That _evening,_ however, I got inspired for something… and I was up till 3:30 in the 

morning writing, believe it or not, the _epilogue_ for this story. ^__^; *grins sheepishly* 

Unlike my other stories, knowing pretty definitely how this story was going to end 

allowed me to do this, though there is a small gap I'll fill in AFTER I write the rest of 

this story. But nonetheless, it feels great having written the epilogue… perhaps 

something more concrete to aim for? If this story turns out how I imagine it, you'll 

love it. This feels very much like holding a good secret * laughs*   


So anyway, Saturday I sat myself down at my computer and tentatively started 

typing up the page or two I had written at the beach and praying that when the time 

came that there was no longer anything to copy, that I would be able to keep on 

writing. I'm still quite surprised that that's what happened because I had tormented 

for hours wondering what exactly to do with this chapter. I really hope you all enjoyed 

the next installment for War of the Roses! All of your encouragement is greatly appreciated. 

Thoughts, comments, suggestions, ideas, mindless babbling always welcome!--Star  


**__**

PS-1) Does ANYONE have a CLUE why all centering formatting is being lost when I post here at ff.net??? I don't recall it always doing that. **PS-2) **And also, you might have noticed that I started referring to Serena as Serenity in this… I couldn't argue with inspiration and the words playing in my head were referring to her as Serenity! That's my only plead for that case. Please give your input on this, and I'll either edit the first two chapters to refer to her as only Serenity, or edit this one to keep referring to her as Serena. I leave the decision in your hands… ^_^

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Mailing List

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.: StarInMyPocket.net :.

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StarMasayume@netscape.net


	4. IV Autumn's Whisper

**W a r . of . the . R o s e s**

_Stargirl_

**. IV** **Autumns Whispers**

Autumn's season whispers tell

The tale of roses, proud and true,

The birth of stories, cycles of life;

Dawns that will bring the morning dew.

A chill mist hung in the morning air, the sky above a cloudy white. Birds sang distantly from wet branches, the smell of damp earth strong. Serenity Blake stood rooted to the terrace of Whittenfield Academy, tentative eyes on the rich chestnut doors that would lead her to her fourth day at the school. The longer she waited, the more the morning around her sank beneath her skin. Perhaps this England morning could have been enchanting--ethereal--with its dew-dipped fields of silver-green grass, the distant hills' misty blue, and the hidden larks' calling. But no, the impression that was pressed upon her was cold, its low fog giving a dreamy-unreal focus laced with a sense of alienation.

She shut her eyes, drew in a slow breath, and sent a prayer heavenward that the day would pass in a blur--much as her sleepless night had. The night had been full of many things--wistfulness, anger, fear, weariness, and a flickering of contentment from which source she could not for the life of her find. She had twisted and flung in her small bed, the scattered moments that her mind sank into sleep filled with visions of crimson roses, swords, and perhaps a wayward kiss. So it hadn't been a particularly wonderful night, but morning had crept onto her all too soon. As far as she was concerned, the end of this day couldn't come soon enough.

Far too much had happened in such a short time. It would leave any person weak and begging the heavens for peace. She could laugh now, thinking back to her last days at her school in New Jersey, sitting at her desk amongst shouts and laughter with papers being flicked across the room. She would sit there, quietly, shutting her eyes and ears to the chaos and noise as she dreamed of going to Whittenfield, consoling herself by the thought of how soon that would be. She hadn't kidded herself that there would undoubtedly be snobs at her new school, but never had she imagined a society in itself with rules and dealings to make her head spin.

She knew that as she stood there she was missing the morning assembly in the great hall. That brought her some consolation, but the thought also warned her that if she wanted to get to her class in relative peace while the halls were void of students, she had better do so soon. Before she could argue with herself to prolong the inevitable, she pushed open the looming doors before her. Perhaps, just perhaps, people would have forgotten about the scarlet rose that so twisted the day before--the very rose that still sat at Serena's bedside.

Victorian gold-rimmed windows spread across the walls, bestowing the majestic view of the grounds of Whittenfield Manor. Like quilt patches of silver greens, misty blues, and hazy browns, the fields and hills made the scene worthy of England pride. Cold gray light poured in from the windows. The drawing room held absolute quiet. Handsome furniture sat expertly over the gleaming hard floors, a sleek grand piano stood in a far corner, and silk curtains fell from around the windows.

Raye Whittenfield sat still in a chair of deep russet, silver-chipped eyes staring ahead out the windows like blue marble--utterly void. Her blood flowed coolly through her; a slender finger tapped the chair's cushioned arm. Barely a breath, barely a flicker of dark eyelash, attested that there was still life in her elegant form. Even these small signs of life, however, froze at the spirited footsteps that echoed down the hall before stopping close by.

"Is my dear sister sulking?" a voice called lightly to her. She had always been able to share in his sardonic moods, been able to meet his eyes, a ghost of laughter in her own--but not today.

Her eyes narrowed the slightest fraction, stiffened shoulders relaxing but only from sheer will. "Of course not," she breathed, voice airy and cold. Behind her perfect façade, there was a grimace. The accusation of 'sulking' was a detestable insult that grated on her steely nerves.

"So, you are not in the least upset then?" She could sense his smile ingraining on her back.

"No."

"But you think I'm an idiot?"

"You are." Her voice rose in silky, indifferent tones. It was useless to add the steel in her voice that had the power to chill so many. He was her brother and they were too much alike, and thus invulnerable to each other.

"I take it that you are not going to school then?" he drawled, the hidden laughter resounding in her ears.

And watch him make a fool of himself? Hardly. She rose in one fluid motion, turning to face him with a level gaze, letting him see her docked in her fine riding habit, ebony jacket and creamy breaches.

"No, I will not be going. I feel like riding," she replied, walking soundlessly to the doorway he was leaning against. She stopped just before him, mirroring ice-blue eyes locking together. "Do what you wish today. Even tomorrow, and the day after. I know when to step aside. Serenity Blake may capture your interest for a day, but I know you enough that it will fade on your most ficklest of whims," she said with a sigh as if accepting the misgivings of a child, lowering her eyelashes and shaking her head. Then she flicked her head and murmured, as if a proclamation of a duchess, "So have your fun, brother. I will not stop you." She stood on her toes, placing a cold kiss on her brother's cheek, and then proceeded to brush by him without a further glance.

Her dark lashes drooped as she strode mindlessly down rich chestnut halls towards the stables--to her beloved horses. Yesterday, she had taken the time to assess the situation, and came to this conclusion. It wasn't worth bestowing her emotion on. Her brother would do what he wanted, and though she still could not understand his interest, she was certain that he would soon come around.

For the first time since she woke up that morning, her eyes flickered with something; a silky amusement swam in the shadow of her eyelashes. Serenity Blake would visit their ranks, taste their rich life, her brother's affections, and then return to the gutter. And if, for any unfortunate reason, she did not, Raye would have to put her in her place. It was a very, very luxurious idea. She reached the stables with shadowed eyes, the barest of smiles upon her lips.

The morning wore on in an intelligible blur. The same rush of attention and smiles nearly swallowed Serena. Now in the patio of the cafeteria, the sky a cheery blue with birds calling from hidden branches, Serena stared longingly at the quiet nature around her. The cacophony of students, either praising or trying to include her in some form of their upper class speech, were beginning to make her head spin. It was a prison of smiles and talk.

A Goldie Locks among the current two girls hugged her books and gushed, "Miss Blake! What an insightful view of Hamlet's plight. I myself always…" Oh yes, Serena remembered. These students had followed her from her English Literature class. She had only tentatively expressed her views and didn't think they were enough to warrant praise. She had been mildly ruffled by the fact that she had been the only one in class to have read Hamlet instead of seen it at the theatre.

"Oh yes," another pretty smiling face cut in, nodding, "I've seen Hamlet a dozen times at the Ivory Theatre. Miss Blake, what do you feel about Pallin's portrayal of Hamlet? Alice says that he gives a crude and shallow perspective to his insanity, but I've always enjoyed his performances." Silky cap of ebony hair and doll like brown eyes—the girl looked liked an Emily. Emily it would be. Serena wasn't sure whether she had forgotten their names or they simply assumed that she knew them.

"Do you know that I've seen the French heiress at the Ivory! She's a student at Bainbridge Academy. Serenity, don't talk to her if you ever see her there. She acts like she owns the world!"

_And you don't_, Serena mused, but her eyes were glazed over and she hadn't the spirit to speak the thought. They would probably miss its meaning entirely.

Goldilocks suddenly smiled mischievously. "But you know," she sang, twirling a golden curl, "I've seen one Bainbridge at the Ivory that I wouldn't mind talking too."

Emily, as she had become in Serena's mind, gave a scandalous gasp followed by a coy smile that somehow ruined her doll look. "It's suicide if you do, but it could make for a sweet death."

"Why is it suicide?" Serena inquired, the longest sentence she had spoken. She had resigned herself to being lost among the girl's prattle. Perhaps it was the mention of the neighboring school that caught her interest. She was a dimwit for thinking of the student from there that she had met, but for some odd reason she didn't feel nearly as irritated with him as before.

Goldilocks smiled indulgently at her. "You'll understand in time. It's not wise to be associated with anyone from Bainbridge, let alone the student council president." She stopped to give a mournful sigh, jiggling her bouncy curls about. "It's just too sad that he's even dreamier than Mr. Whittenfield – and richer."

Serena envisioned the sleek council president, Seiya Whittenfield, and had difficulty imagining someone more gorgeous. Though perhaps, the Bainbridge student came pretty close. His shoulders were broader, and his thick ebony hair in disarray over a pair pf deep blue eyes. Then there was that humorous quirk his lips pulled into. He said his name was Darien. Trolling the unusual name in her mind, she found that it fit him.

"Miss Blake?" Goldilocks' voice sounded far off, but still Serena jerked to attention.

"Sorry. What was that?" she said, trying to fight off the blush to her cheeks. What _had_ she been thinking? That student was callous and always seemed to be silently laughing at her. Just remembering the superior look in his eyes infuriated her. He was nothing like Seiya Whittenfield, who was refined and treated her like an equal. She had enough of arrogant people to last her lifetime!

"Well, as I was saying, you _must_ meet our friends. Everyone's been so anxious to meet you!"

_Since when?_ Serena thought, bemused. Amid a sigh, she perked up. The mention of friends made her think of someone. "Do either of you know of a student named Amy Jameson?"

Emily's eyelashes lowered a fraction. "Jameson…" she murmured reflectively. "Such a common name, isn't it?"

"Oh, but what does it matter?" Goldilocks piqued brightly, taking Serena's arm. "We know _everyone_ of importance at this school. Don't be too surprised, next year, if we are appointed into the student council. The girl promptly turned and waved others over to introduce Serena too.

Serena blinked, flustered by the student's chattering like a hive of bees around her. Somehow, she could hardly edge in a word. At least they paid no notice to her silence. Their faces were graced by smiles and ardent expression. It was all so hallow… and did they have to pretend that they had befriended and taken her under their wings from the beginning? She wouldn't remember their faces or names tomorrow—really, she couldn't even recall them now.

Serena peered out to the trees, words fading and blending around her. She tried to console herself that it was preferable to their scorn and indifference, but at least the feelings had been honest. She pictured the flighty, selfish minds beneath the smiles. It was their right to be that way, but she didn't wish to be subjected to it. They continued to talk to her as if they already knew her mind and unsaid words. Sick of all of them, she lifted her face and cried, "Enough!"

Dainty gasps sprung from the girls. They looked at her in astonishment and the boys with raised eyebrows.

Serena fidgeted uncomfortably under their stares. "I-I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Please excuse me." For an absurd moment she wondered if she should curtsy. Appalled by the ridiculous notion and telling herself that she was an complete idiot, she turned on her heels and fled down a hall.

There she was. Misty blue eyes blinked at the sight of Serenity Blake amidst the upper crust of the student body. Amy Jameson suppressed a lonely sigh from where she stood in view of the terrace where students during the luncheon hour mingled. She turned from her shadowy corner and slipped quietly into the hall.

The murmurs bloomed throughout the hall, and demure Amy ducked her head. She should have been happy for the new student, but even her streak of worry was lost to sadness. She hadn't truly lost a friend she tried to tell herself. She had only met Miss Whittenfield that one day, after all. Though for a day she had thought of the girl just as Serena and had looked forward to seeing her again.

She just lost the one friend she might have had since Mina Addlington. Both were lost to her in very different ways though. Serenity hadn't given her any inkling thought that she was more than she appeared—Amy hadn't cared. It now seemed clear, though, that the girl was far more above the station to mingle with the daughter of a doctor. Even if Serenity did wish to pursue a friendship, Amy would only be holding her down. Serenity defied the odds of the school's initial scorn and a connection to plain Amy Jameson would only dampen her new high status. Any student's position in the school, under the elite Student Council, was fragile at best. Standings had to be maintained or else lost, and the most innocent acts could lose everything. Amy was quiet, a girl that others could forget the presence of. Those who are silent often saw and understood more of what was around them. Amy held no disillusion of the school.

Amy sighed as she slipped into the mass of students around her. At first, she had been very afraid for her friend, to the point it was a tingling sickness inside her. It might have been oddly strong for a girl she barely knew, but she couldn't help it…

Serenity had struck a tender spot in her, unerringly reminding her of Mina Addlington with her bright blue eyes, long blonde hair, and most of all her spirit. Mina had been so strong in Amy's eyes, but the girl hadn't been able to accept the school's ways and had paid for it dearly. Amy's eyes still grew moist thinking of when she had watched her friend as she left the school, left England. Mina had given her a weak smile and waved, but Amy couldn't respond in any way, too distressed at seeing her beautiful friend now with dark shadows beneath her eyes, cheeks hallowed, and the broken spirit that wrung around her shoulders.

At the familiar, painful swelling inside her, Amy scolded herself. There was nothing to worry about. Serenity Blake was _not_ Mina Addlington. Mina had been a nobody, whereas Serenity clearly was. For once Amy agreed with the conclusions of her peers. If Serenity _wasn't_, then none of this could have happened. And it was by the time that Amy understood this that the worry and fear had left her and was replaced by the lonely sadness she now carried. Serenity Blake, unlike Mina, was in a position to take care of herself. Or was she? Was anyone truly able to take care of themselves under the school's ways? It was a festering thought, even as she tried to trample it. If she herself was a mouse, then surely Serenity was a sparrow.

"I still don't believe it," a female voice bit, the scathing tone sounding odd in the dreamy courtyard of Whittenfield Academy.

Serena blinked at the sound. She sat cross-legged, huddled in the hidden niche by ivy-shrouded walls, determined lines creasing her brow and eyes glaring at the heavy textbook in her lap. After she had bolted from the terrace, she had secluded herself to a niche in one of the numerous courtyards. She hadn't felt hungry in any case, and opted to take the time to study. Her mind had refused to focus on her homework once she had arrived home the night before, so with a frustrated growl she had pushed it aside.

Though none of her teachers thus far that day reprimanded her for it, she had flushed deeply when unable to hand in the work. At her old school, the teachers would have asked in concern whether she was sick and she would have faced the rest of the day with cheep cracks from her peers. Her failing to hand in her work was just unheard of. She suppressed a groan that threatened the back of her throat. This school was really making her lose it. The level of study was a difficult jump as it was without her distracted mind.

She was halfway through a vigorous study of Napoleon and his war when the voice broke through to her. She paused at its familiarity, and the following words made her stiffen and listen carefully.

"He couldn't be interested in _her_. I didn't even _see_ any rose."

She would have ignored it if not for the immediate feeling that the talk was of _her._ So it was curiosity that caused her to lift her head and scoot over rough stone to peer through some wet ivy. The sight of her ruby-haired girl with her group of friends confirmed Serena's suspicions. It was her tormentor of her second day. Even remembering the mocking words, Serena's fingers dug deep into her palm.

"But Narcissa," an anxious voice of a younger girl spoke, "I saw the rose myself. She _was_ holding it."

Narcissa shook her head of crimson hair, a sneer lacing her beautiful face. "Fine then," she snapped, "She must have placed the rose there herself."

Serena bristled at the comment, but kept her indignation trapped between her pursed lips as she watched.

"She was here only two days though," a taller girl said slowly, tentative. "How could she have known what it meant?"

The girl shrunk under Narcissa's glare. "Are you insinuating that Seiya Whittenfield _would_ give a rose to the likes of _her_," she gritted. "She's a--"

Serena snapped her textbook shut and stepped into the open. "She's a what?" she challenged, leveling her eyes on the red-head who whirled around at her cool voice and completely ignoring the startled gasps from the other girls.

Narcissa's eyes soon lost their shock and sank into a furious glare. Then she tilted her head back and laughed. "So, you think you're miss high and mighty now."

Serena's expression hardened in a stony blank stare even as she grew nervous. She was sick of undeserved comments behind her back and her anger made her bold.

Narcissa's laughter died down quickly, but the wild smile stayed. She dropped her eyes over sardonic, humorous depths, and when she spoke again, her voice was a musing drawl. "Really, Blake, of all the nonsense. Do you really _believe_ that Seiya Whittenfield gave _you_ the rose?" Narcissa paused for a husky laugh, shaking her head. "It was so cruel for whatever person to get your hopes up. It was a _poor_ thing to do."

"I have no _hopes_," Serena gritted, "but Seiya Whittenfield _did_ give me that rose, so get used to it!" Narcissa stepped back with shocked, blazing eyes, but the outburst surprised Serena far more though she had sense enough not to let it on. She realized, belatedly of course, that she perhaps should _not_ have said that. Narcissa's words just triggered it like an awaiting bomb.

What was done was done though, and accepting that nothing could change that, Serena lifted her chin a notch with defiant eyes. Despite her bravado, however, there was a sickening knot of fear in her stomach which rattled at the thought that perhaps someone _had_ given her the rose to raise her hopes--even though it had done _no_ such thing, she insisted to herself, ignoring whatever pleasure she had recently fancied.

Though not really paying attention to them, Serena vaguely noticed that Narcissa's friends had gone quite anxious and ghostly pale, the smallest one tugging at Narcissa's sleeve and begging to reconsider. Narcissa shrugged the girl off with disgust, not taking her eyes off of Serena who had an inkling bad feeling of the challenge in the girl's eyes. "Is that so?"

Serena answered with a tight, nearly imperceptible nod. She had dug her own hole and could see no way to escape it. The least she could do was act with dignity.

The smile twisting at Narcissa's was far too confident and smug for Serena's liking. Serena gritted her teeth and straightened her shoulders, trying to prepare to spit fire with fire, when Narcissa finally spoke. "Fine then," she declared silkily, "If you are so sure…and Mr. Whittenfield truly did give you the rose, then there will be no problem for you to kiss him—where of course, there are witnesses."

A hammer knocking Serena dumb could not have had a more devastating effect. She blinked and then blinked again. The tongue of hers, that had been so willing for a fight just a moment before, numbed to a useless slug in her mouth.

The dread pounded through her blood in sudden weakening waves and she could do nothing to swipe the triumphant smile off of Narcissa's face. Nothing but stand there and slowly fall apart inside. There was _no_ way she could go up to Seiya Whittenfield and kiss him in front of the school! Not even to note her twisting suspicions that he might not have been the one to give her the rose and the implications if that were the case and she _did_ play out Narcissa's challenge, it was still impossible! Her throat constricted and choked with frustration.

Then, as Narcissa gloated silently and as Serena stood wishing for the life of her that she hadn't left her hiding place, a squeak from one of Narcissa's friends sounded just before a familiar, complacent voice drawled, "No problem at all," the reference achingly clear.

Serena's heart thudded heavily in her chest as she turned to the young man having unknowingly crept up on them.

"Mr. Whittenfield!" Narcissa's incredulous voice rang in the silence.

Seiya Whittenfield nodded a wry acknowledgment to Narcissa before turning to Serena who stared back numbly. Suddenly she flushed, seeming to snap out of her stupor. If he had heard… but he _couldn't_ be insinuating that—

"Well, Miss Blake?" he ventured, a smile tipping his lips, "shall we oblige them?"

On no, he _was_ insinuating it, and was not jesting as he walked over to her. Panic bubbled in her chest and her blood ran cold. Trembling, she glanced wildly at Narcissa. If Serena hadn't been so distressed, she would have laughed at the wide-eyed red head. One of the other girls clasped her hand over her mouth and looked on in avid fascination.

"Have I not earned a kiss," Seiya said softly so the others could not hear, "for being your rescuer, not once, but now twice?"

Serena dragged her gaze back, finding something dancing within the student council's murky eyes. Her heart knotted in her throat and she could hardly breathe, her mind a terrible mess. His words struck her true though. He had helped her once before, and now seemed set to do so. It would really be the sweetest vengeance to be paid to Narcissa who had seemed now to be the one who had dug her own hole. To everyone's surprise, however, she gave a slight shake of her head and gazed up at Seiya with pleading eyes. He seemed momentarily taken by her refusal, and just as she worried if she had offended him too much, he nodded in acceptance. Further, he startled her by gently taking her smaller hand in his and planting a feather-light kiss on the back of her hand. She found she couldn't look away from his silver-blue eyes and her pulse fluttered wildly. Seiya turned from her to the girls, and Serena numbly noted that he was still gently holding her hand.

She glanced at the girls who were very quiet. The two stared in awe; Narcissa held a stare that Serena could not hope to define. Whatever it was, the terrible girl seemed put in her place. Serena gave Seiya a free smile, hoping to convey her thanks. She really did owe the student president a lot, she reflected. Once again, he maneuvered her from an awkward situation. The gentlemanly kiss to her hand spoke volumes to Serena, and she warmed at his consideration to her feelings. She did not want her first kiss to be with a near stranger, or any illusions with herself that its purpose was to flaunt and take revenge on those that harassed her. Perhaps, she thought, when he wasn't a stranger… she wouldn't mind. Her thoughts trailed and she registered Seiya giving a polite nod to the other students. "If you will excuse us," he murmured, his voice holding all of the diplomacy of a prince. It was belatedly that she realized he said "excuse us" and not "excuse me." As the girls gaped on, still quiet in their stupor, Seiya tugged on Serena's hand and, without question, she followed.

Serena felt like she needed to say something, more words than she knew brimming at her lips, but her own uncertainty kept her silent. It was Seiya's voice that broke the silence. "If you have any problems, even those like the one back there, I'd like for you to tell me."

Serena's head jerked up as she glanced at his profile, a puzzled frown on her visage. "Why?" she asked simply.

Seiya angled his head slightly to raise a cool eyebrow in her direction even as amusement swam in his eyes. "Shouldn't it be the Student President's duty to help a new student?"

Certainly for her definition of one, it was. It was clear that her definition of things were quite different from those at Whittenfield, though. His voice was light hearted and she felt he wasn't going to give her a serious answer. She felt certain that the Student Council had no duty other than to bring honor to their school. They were the elite of Whittenfield Academy and all that the position presented. She stayed silent after his vague answer. Perhaps she had no real eagerness to explore his reasoning.

"A new fancy, Whittenfield?" The new voice was cultured and smooth, not particularly friendly, though more resigned than scorning. Serena looked up in surprise as Seiya and her stopped as a man she did not recognize stepped in their path. At first look, Serena had thought him as elderly from the silky white hair swept back into a stately ponytail, but his face and build portrayed a man only in his thirties. Either his hair was extremely blond, or was prematurely gray. Sharp gray eyes narrowed on her, and only then did she realize he may have been insinuating her as the "fancy." She sent him an indignant look back and almost thought she caught a hint of a smile on his lips. She thought she imagined it when the man turned to Seiya as his expression was clearly arctic.

Seiya seemed unruffled and gave an easygoing smile, greeting calmly, "Artemis."

"Despite obvious distractions, do you think you will honor me with your presence for today's lecture?"

Serena was impressed, and couldn't help admiring the bold teacher—if a teacher he indeed was. The exaggerated humility seemed to conceal an underlining mockery. Even the hardened Fencing teacher would not have dared to speak so to Seiya Whittenfield. Seiya gave a noncommittal nod though and pulled Serena onward. Still ruffled from the abrupt exchange, Serena glanced back to see the teacher looking after them with a strange expression. "He doesn't seem to like you very much," Serena commented without thinking.

Seiya responding with a smile, though it felt like a form of dry humor. "No. I don't suppose he does." Serena looked at him searchingly, and he added, "He's a literature professor at the school. A very good one I assure you."

Serena sighed and let her eyes fall to the walkway. That hadn't answered her question at all, really. She lifted her head and tried to decide on a different one that bothered her. "Are you planning to attend his class?" The Council President's quick mind picked up on her real question immediately. Do you always come and go as you please?

"I attend when I feel it is for the best," he answered mildly. "I had private tutors before I was of age to attend Whittenfield Academy. I am quite versed with all subjects and it is tedious having the things I know repeated twice to me."

It still didn't seem right, but Serena tried to understand him. If she already knew and understood the material in her classes, the classes would be boring… though infinitely easier, she couldn't help but add as she thought of the difficulty with the high level of expectation from teachers. The best from her American school didn't come close to the norm at Whittenfield Academy. Add in the cultural and class gap and she had one fit struggle. She wanted her grades and accomplishments to be honest, however. If the teachers decided to give her As, from whatever cause, then she would live up to it without guilt.

Seiya Whittenfield proceeded to walk her to her next class. He stopped her at the door and asked a question of his own. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Serena wasn't sure what to say. Being seen with the student council president could cause even more trouble. When all was said and done though, he had been the only one to reach out to her. Of course there had been the girl from her first fencing class—but as much as Serena had tried to look for her, the girl didn't seem to want to be found. It was lonely. As much as she wished she didn't care, she didn't want to be alone. She nodded yes and he smiled and opened the classroom door for her. As she walked through, never had she felt so uncertain what a school year might bring.

From above, two pairs of eyes stared down at the couple making their way through the school courtyards, violet eyes cool and observant while silver-green eyes flashed with annoyance. The two young men watched their friend and council president quietly for a moment. Above any at the school, they were the closest to Seiya Whittenfield. They understood his amusements, his annoyances, and his cockiness. He was the prince, the one with absolute power. His breeding, wealth, and nature entitled him to be so. As friends and fellow elite members of the student council, they held a liberty many did not.

"It's pitiful," the smaller one with whispy, white-blond hair muttered. What he lacked in his frail, almost angelic, looks was made up in full by the spirit in his forest eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, a sense of both fire and ice about him.

The taller of the two turned from the window, his expression cooler than his comrades. Keen intelligence lurked behind his fashionable glasses. "She is quite pretty," he said mildly.

An unamused glare focused on him. "You are not at all concerned?" the blond challenged.

"Of course I am," the other responded in his same calm voice. "You know Seiya as well as I, however. She has caught his interest."

"Are you saying we are to do nothing?"

"I am saying that we are to wait. We must be patient."

The anger in him mellowed, but the blond still stared sulkingly. "And what are we to do if his _amusement_ persists?"

The other shut his eyes and started walking off, his shoes echoing across the room. "We have a strong ally," he said simply. "His sister holds more venom than either you or I."

**_ Author Notes _**

_Sorry for not updating in so long! I've really been caught up in some other things this past year. But my finals for this semester are over! (happy star) I still just got a job at Waldenbooks that I'll be starting and it's a busy month, but I promise I'll try to take advantage of the holidays to get a bit of writing done. I had a lot of this written for awhile but made myself recently shape it up a bit and finish it. Thanks goes to Jessica M. Moonflower for looking the chapter over! hugs Hope you guys enjoyed it, even if Darien's not in it. I know it's moving slow into the plot, but I don't want to rush into it either. Suggestions, critique, comments are always greatly appreciated. Happy Holidays!_

_-star_


	5. V Of Swords and Roses

**W a r . of . the . R o s e s**

Stargirl_  
_

**. V****Of Swords and Roses**

_Find thy sword, little rose,  
An ally in faith and valor.  
Little they be, you have your thorns,  
That will nick a crimson color._

How Serena drifted through the following days would forever remain a mystery to her. Moments felt like hours, days like years. All time became unfocused and unreal as she found herself in an odd cycle. There wasn't joy singing in her heart, but neither was she adverse to it all. Her days, if possible, had become pleasantly simple. A dream-like simple.

She awoke every morning and swept through the school day, Seiya at her side like a shadow. No, she thought. Never a shadow. Not him. He was her prince and escort.

The students embraced her. The snug feeling of _belonging_ wrapped around her in comforting waves, so enticing a feeling that she could hardly let her mind tread into any serious thoughts. She liked it simple. The tangle of weeds in her mind had disappeared, replaced by an enchanting mist like wandering into the home of magical enchantresses and fairies, her lids drooping and thoughts slowing.

Of course there were times when she felt cold… felt more alienated from the students gathering around her than when they had been ignoring her. She wasn't sure how, perhaps a glaze or flicker in her eyes, but Seiya always seemed to sense when she was in one of her lapses. He would smile down at her, lift her hand to his lips, and she would forget. She never said a word, never said that she was in a relationship with Seiya Whittenfield—but still, she stood by his side. Others wondered, questioned her, even assumed, but how could she confirm what she herself didn't understand?

It seemed like, in those few days, that everything was right. Raye Whittenfield, who had returned to school, never confronted Serena. In fact she behaved almost as if she didn't exist, which was quite fine by Serena. She was used to being ignored; it was what she had always known, and in the sea of attention, she felt the action almost… comforting. Without outer distractions or inner turmoil, both of which had plagued her at her rough start at the school, she found she could concentrate on her studies and that she did not have to feel guilty about the teacher's leniency if she gave them no opportunity for it. She thought she could be content in her new routine.

November crept near, embracing the meadow lands with its autumn chill. The wind caught flared leaves of browns, crimsons, and golds from brittle branches to toss in the air. The seasons changed without fail and with it brought a new tide of disturbance.

Serena awoke a Monday morning, tired and restless and not knowing why. She sat up in her bed, looking around her small, darkened room. The morning's dim blue light filtrated through the window, one of the wall clocks softly ticking. Her eyes fell on her uniform laid out for her over the pile on her chest. In the lighting, it looked like a dark burgundy pool.

She couldn't understand the odd sensation in her, the clearness in her mind that crystallized thoughts and scrutinized everything about the dim room as well as the feelings swimming around inside her. She reached for her uniform and mindlessly changed into it, facing the narrow mirror and sliding her hand over her jacket to work out the wrinkles. She was suddenly reminded of the first day she stood before the mirror tugging at her uniform so nervous and excited. It was as if she had just stepped back to see everything from the beginning and could only wonder if she had lived them.

It was a disturbing thought and she frowned at herself. Her life had simply changed. She had long ago convinced herself that she could handle life. It was a long expanse of time in front of her, foreseen in her mind as holding no extreme sense of happiness or sadness. To simply be content—that was all she wanted. She needed no more than a quiet existence, still holding her pride and being able to care for her mum in the days to come.

She felt that moving to England and being accepted into the Whittenfield School was allowing for her picture of the future. Granted, the school had been far from what she imagined, and she couldn't quite fathom what difference it would make in her life. She had also not counted on meeting Seiya Whittenfield, a member of the upper class—a terrifying world apart from her own. It was a world that didn't seem real when she awoke in the mornings after the disorientation of sleep to find herself in the cramped but homely town house. It was then, at these moments, that she felt fearful of venturing out of this world, which was small but safe.

Of course it was silly to be scared. The new events had done no harm and had, if anything, improved her situation. Which is why, as she had for the past seven days, she brushed away her thoughts, lifted her chin, and turned from the room to drift through another day. She could not tolerate cowards, and she herself was no exception.

The morning passed uneventfully and without the appearance of Seiya Whittenfield. It didn't worry her as he often arrived later in the mornings. She was growing used to his comings and goings. The more ambitious students stayed by her side. It was funny how simple a day at school was recently. Should it bother her how easy it had become? At the luncheon hour, she excused herself from the students around her, more confident in her ability to brush them off. Thus far she was proud of her control and acceptance in face of their prattling and vain natures. At least she never blew her top like she did that one day. The students' presence around her began to feel…natural.

She walked quickly through the mill of students to her newest place of refuge and torture. The school's elegant library had intimidated and elated her when she had first found it. Rich mahogany gleamed from every surface, candelabras and red roses accenting the designed structure of couches and tables. There were stairs and archways to elevated floors, and compartments each with their own maze of reaching bookcases. She quickly searched for a student librarian who helped her find the books she needed, and thus she studied.

"It now remains for us to see how a prince should govern his conduct towards his subjects or his friends…" The pages were old—not in means of deterioration, but in something that had lasted the ages. In it were words relevant enough for the elitists of Whittenfield Academy to deign to reflect on it in class. Serena shifted in her seat, weary after reading Chapter XV and wishing she had opted for one of the couches instead of the table she slouched over.

To avoid the expense of buying certain books, she decided to take advantage of the library to find the ones she needed. She had looked forward to reading famous writings from the Renaissance and yet… though most were good, others bothered her. Mirandola's _On the Dignity of Man_, Castiglione's _The Book of the Courtier_, Hobbes' _Liviathon_… and Machiavelli's _The Prince _from which she now read. All of them fit the prestigious school somehow. Did they really believe _everything_ in these books? She rubbed her temple and continued to read, eyes narrowed in stubborn concentration that only really gave her a mild headache.

"The fact is that a man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous. Therefore if a prince wants to maintain his rule he must learn how not to be virtuous, and to make use of this or not according to need…" She balked at the cool lecturing words, mindlessly tapping her pencil on the table's surface in agitation.

A prince surely didn't have to be a pushover just for being virtuous, or generous, _or_ loved. She thought those were wonderful qualities. As an idealistic by nature, she was well aware of her bias as she swept over well-made points. But, for instance, a prince who was too generous and was taken advantage of or who depleted his own sources was just being foolish. Being frugal and hording every penny surely wouldn't benefit anyone. Where was the middle ground?

She read on and by Chapter XVII on "Cruelty and Compassion and Whether it is Better to be Loved than Feared, or the Reverse," Serena shut the book with a resounding "thunk." Some of Machiavelli's arguments were indifferently logical, but how could she agree to something professing that cruelty could be better than compassion? "It's rubbish," she sighed, nudging the book further from her as if its presence alone could contaminate her thoughts.

"What's rubbish?"

Startled by the voice, she looked behind her to see Seiya Whittenfield standing under the archway. And as she often was, she was struck by how handsome and composed he was. Young men that beautiful were not supposed to exist in real life… and yet they did in hers. After a moment when she still had not yet given a response, he raised an eyebrow.

She flushed in embarrassment and turned back to the table. "Nothing… just reading." Furrowing her brow, she looked back at him and asked, "What do you think of Machiavelli's _The Prince_?"

A smile spread across his lips and she had that unsettling feeling when he seemed to already read her thoughts and feelings. "You think that a 'prince' should be compassionate, correct?"

It wasn't exactly a question, but she gave a small nod. "Y-yes."

"One in authority's position is always challenged. You believe that everything that makes a man inherently good should make him strong—yet history proves a rarity of good men being good kings. Their generosity can backfire and hurt their kingdom later on—so it is better to be frugal. If their kindness and compassion is viewed as a weakness, they will be taken advantage of. Sometimes cruelty is the biggest kindness when it is for the better."

She stayed quiet but he read her expression. "You still don't believe it," he said without resentment.

"Seiya, you… you're like the prince, and everyone respects and fears you without cruelty, don't they?"

A shadow swept over Seiya's ice-blue eyes but he still wore a smile and all Serena could see was kindness in his face. "Of course."

She smiled back at him, her spirit restored. There were princes, after all, who could rule with compassion. She didn't care if it was naïve; she couldn't let herself believe otherwise.

"I have a surprise for you," Seiya told her with a secret smile.

She tried to frown but a smile twitched at her lips. "Oh? One I'll like?"

He leaned casually against the table. "Oh, very much I'm sure."

"So what is it?" Serena laughed.

Seiya lifted a slim eyebrow. "And ruin the surprise?" he murmured teasingly. "Nonsense. You'll find out today." He turned and strode to the exit.

"Where are you going?" Serena called after him.

"Council Lounge," he said without turning back. He paused as if with an after thought and added, "you may want to avoid my sister today."

"Why? She hasn't been bothering… me." She sighed. He was already gone.

Serena stepped into her next classroom to be confronted by a beaming Social Studies teacher. Considering that the lines in this man's face formed a natural frown, the effect was a bit uncomfortable to see. "Good morning, Miss Blake," he greeted. "Exciting day for you, isn't it?"

"Is it?" she echoed, confused. As she took her seat she was only vaguely connecting the teacher's "exciting day for her" and Seiya's hinted surprise. It was a surprise big enough for the teacher to know of? How could that be? She tapped a fingernail on her desk, thoughts lost to the first portion of the teacher's lecture, restless from the puzzle presented to her. She felt more left in the dark than giddy over the possibility of something good happening for once.

She had an even odder feeling about it all when she sensed the curious and accessing stares in the short breaks between classes. If she ever doubted the ability to feel being stared at, she never would again. When she searched for the students she felt watching her, she was further unnerved when she recognized most of them had the rose pins that signaled their status on the student council. Two boys in particular she caught glimpses of the most, a tall studious one and a fair-haired petite one, she not only recognized to be on the council but Seiya's closest friends. She debated confronting them, but didn't really know what she could say.

It was at her last class that the professor told her the vice principal had requested to see her. She walked toward the main office, unwilling to help the cold nervousness that crept through her. The Vice Principal, called simply Madame by many, might as well have been the real principal for all the school ever saw of him.

Serena halted before the wooden double doors, drawing in a slow breath to calm herself. She jumped at Madame's voice from inside. "Well? Aren't you coming in?" The voice was cool and Serena couldn't detect the woman's mood from it at all.

Her heartbeat fluttered in her chest as she cautiously opened the door and stepped into the spacious office. "You called for me?" she asked softly.

Madame was behind her desk writing. "Yes." She looked up with a smile that held no warmth. "Miss Blake, you have been full of surprises."

Serena could say nothing to that and so held her tongue. Most of the happenings were surprises to her as well.

Madame gave a delecate sigh, rising to a stand and turning to walk to the ceiling-to-floor window in one fluid motion. Her back faced Serena's as she continued. "This school is over a century old… a living legacy of a great family," Madame murmured, almost to herself. "I, as my fathers before me, have devoted my life to this school. Oh, but it is so much more than a school. Rich with history… prestige, it has raised and taught the most promising students. In this school… intelligence and wealth is the norm, and yet, there are still the elite. They are young men and women whose worth are far above my own. They have been born and raised that way and live in excellence you or I could only dream of. It is an honor to have them at Whittenfield, and it is these privileged students that make up the Student Council." The Vice Principal fell silent, her gaze still cast out the window.

Serena stood there, increasingly bewildered. She wasn't sure what she expected, but this speech surely wasn't it. "I—I don't understand," she found the courage to say.

"No. I don't suppose you would," Madame agreed.

Serena frowned at that. "Is this about Seiya Whittenfield?"

Madame shook her head slightly and Serena could sense rather than see the wry smile on the woman's lips. "Perhaps in a way. But not what you are thinking." The older woman swung gracefully around and faced Serena with a raised eyebrow, an expression that reminded her of Seiya. "Well now, I suppose you better find out why you were called here. There's a letter for you on the desk."

Feeling thoroughly awkward and lost, Serena reached for the sealed envelope on the desk as if it were her salvation. It was a golden marble envelope. She paused and swept her hand over the bronze cursive "Miss Serenity Blake" that graced across the front and the red rose seal on the back with the school's emblem. Her hand hovered to break the seal, and in that brief moment she felt she didn't want to open it. Madame silently waited and Serena forced herself to open it. Her eyes glanced through the contents.

"_Dear Miss Blake, It has come to my attention that you have reached such a degree of excellence at Whittenfield that I am happy to award…_" Serena caught her breath in shock, feeling suddenly light headed and out of focus. The letter was signed by the principal. Serena looked up to the Vice Principal, needing reaffirmation. "Is this really true?"

The woman gave her a tight smile. "I am afraid so. That is an invitation to join the Student Council. I only hope you can comprehend what an honor it is."

Perplexed, Serena looked back to the letter. There was a rush of feeling inside her, neither dread nor elation. "I still don't understand," she fought to say the words. It was almost a physical effort to tread through the tangle in her mind.

"Don't you?" Madame said calmly.

Serena looked up and comprehension filled her clouded eyes. "Seiya," she whispered. She recalled his "surprise" and the looks she had been receiving from the student council members.

Madame didn't make a comment, but then she didn't need to.

"May I leave now?" Serena asked almost a sigh. She suddenly felt very tired and just wanted to return home and wait for her mum. Perhaps if she didn't make a big deal of it, just did something normal, than it wouldn't bother her so.

"You may go." Madame nodded and Serena turned to leave but was stopped just before the door. "Miss Blake? A small piece of advice?"

Serena looked over her shoulder and the woman's expression was more serious than almost any she had seen before.

"You may have made friends in high places," Madame paused, eyes locked on Serena's, "but you have made enemies in high places as well." There was no animosity in the woman's voice or gaze. Serena hardly moved or breathed, but forced herself to give a small nod. She watched the Vice Principal dismiss her and return to work before finally slipping from the room.

She moved in a daze, hardly seeing the students around her. She still couldn't quite grasp all that had happened—and perhaps she didn't want to. Her eyes glanced and swung around as she searched out Seiya's face. She had just started down one of the courtyard's walkways outside when she looked up and paused.

Two familiar faces stared down at her from the high bay window—Seiya's two friends. The breath she let loose made a faint cloud in the cold air. They were in the upstairs rooms of the North Building where Seiya had brought her the first day she met him. Without conscious thought, she headed towards the entrance, numbly pushing by the students she passed.

Aware of the student council members having exclusive right to the first and second floors of the ornate building, she tread up the flight of stairs with more thana little bit of nervousness. In some small corner of her, maybe she did view these people as better than her. But she resented that feeling and with the sole purpose in mind, she entered one of the main rooms.

She paused by the door as some of the students lounging throughout the room turned faintly curious glances towards her. Serena looked for Seiya first in case he was there, but when she didn't see him turned to the two she recognized as his friends. She headed towards them without thinking but her steps slowed as she drew closer. What kind of friends were they? What kind of impression did they have of her? Seiya had only mentioned them in passing with a vague reference to introducing her to him. Butterflies warred in her stomache.

They were both staring at her now and were absolutely expressionless. Whatever hope she had that they would give her an acknowledging smile died and the last of her steps were forced. She sighed and spoke. "I was wondering whether either of you know where Seiya is?"

"My brother isn't here," a cool voice mused. Serena could feel her entire body lock in place. The fair-haired boy gave her a vicious smile while the other merely looked over her shoulder. She dreaded to turn around. There was no mistaking who it was.

She had never known anyone else with as cold and emotionless a voice. Gathering a small breath of courage, she twisted round. Her gaze met the icy pale blue of Raye Whittenfield. The hairs on her neck rose in warning. Under that gaze alone, she felt under siege.

"What a pity for you… and how convenient for me. You saved me the trouble of a finding you," the words were accompanied by a ghost of a smile.

Raye's eyes held hers, cold and calculating, as she strolled forward, ignoring the council members that quickly stepped out of her path. She didn't look angry, Serena thought. She looked like a stroked cat that had found a mouse to toy with which was far, far worse.

She stood there, bemused as Raye Whittenfield stopped inches before her face. From so close, the girl's translucent skin looked china pale. So believable was the illusion that Serena wondered if the girl's face would be cool to the touch. Ivory skin, ebony hair, and wintry eyes were an intimidating combination that could have rivaled any snow queen's. A person's eyes really were the most expressive… they captured Serena's like a viper's—hallow and deadly entrancing. Serena fought the urge to glance away.

"Well, well," Raye sang softly. "It seems I've underestimated you."

Serena silently stared back at her.

Raye's dark lashes lowered a fraction, though not before Serena caught a glimpse of the steel in them. "So my dear brother has a fetish with you." Her voice carried on only a breath, and though it had no less intensity it made it unlikely anyone else in the room could hear her despite their curious gazes and listening ears. A cruel smile briefly flashed on one corner of Raye's mouth before it was gone. "No one here is a fool. They know the only reason why you received an invitation. You _have_, of course, received it by now, haven't you?" Silver blue eyes slid away but there wasn't a moment's relief for Serena as Raye began to circle around her.

Serena stiffened and stood up straighter.

"You are trash," Raye murmured in the same calm and hallow voice. "As worthless to this school as a penny to the streets. It's my nature to ignore people like you, but you just don't know your place. You're going to wish to God that no one at this school… ever… knew your name…"

Serena was trembling with anger and embarrassment, and she refused to lose her pride in this display of authority as she was sure that that was all it was. "Are you done?" she whispered. She would not rise to the bait. When she found Seiya, he could make amends and deal with his sister.

Unexpectedly, a slight smile spread across Raye's lips and she blinked languidly as she stepped back. But this time she raised her voice, and the room was so quiet that every member in the vast room could hear. "We have a time old tradition here of settling personal vendetta's. You only had a taste of it," she spoke, her voice serene with well-hidden malice. Raye gave her an amused glance. "We decide by sword."

Serena grew cold. Her numb fingers curled together and it seemed as if her heart dropped too low from its rightful place. She didn't need to be reminded of the failure that was her first fight with Raye Whittenfield. It was a thorn that never stopped wounding her pride. "A duel?" she asked, forcing her voice to steady.

"A duel," Raye smiled. "All or nothing. The terms are simple. You win—I let you join the Student Council and leave you alone. But if I win… you leave Whittenfield Academy never to look back."

Leave school? The words echoed in Serena's uncomprehending mind. She could accept not joining the council. She wasn't even sure she wanted to join. But how could she leave school after all she had been through? All that her mother had went through _for her_?

Raye caught the fear in her eyes and laughed quietly. "The stakes too high for you? You should have thought about that before _you_ challenged _me_."

"That's unfair!" Serena shook her head. "You know I've only just started fencing."

"That's why I'm giving you one month. Call it my grace period. I think that should more than suffice, don't you?"

Serena's mind was racing. There had to be a way out of this. Why couldn't she refuse the duel? It didn't have to be all or nothing. She just wanted to be a normal student. She was still trying to form the words to say to explain that to Raye Whittenfield when a new voice rang through the room and echoed around the ceilings and spoke the two words that sealed Serena's fate.

"She'll accept."

Shocked, Serena swung around to see Seiya lounging against the doorway.

Raye tilted her head loftily, a placid smile gracing her face. All was going well. It mildly amused her how well. Her cool eyes glided over the blonde girl who stood dumbstruck in the middle of the floor. The poor creature didn't stand a chance. It would be a wise decision for Serenity Blake to leave school long before the duel—but Raye knew she wouldn't. She had too much spirit for her own good and an irritating belief in equality.

The world wasn't equal… or fair. Raye might have pitied the girl for her innocence if it didn't annoy her so much. Did Serenity Blake think she could rise in status by her pretty face alone? Having said all she wanted to and not curious enough to see the after effect to her challenge, Raye had no need to stay. She left the room with only a cursory look to her brother. Once outside, she walked oblivious to the cold around her and silver-chipped eyes focused somewhere on a future day in December. A faint whisper carried on the wind. "Let's see how well your ideals save you in battle, Serenity Blake."

Inside, Serena stood there long enough for the elite students around her to break the silence. In her far off mind, she heard a giggle or laugh and vaguely sensed the curious and accessing glances but it all remained a blur to her. Seiya was suddenly by her side, a gentle hand guiding her to an empty room to the side.

He smiled down at the bewildered girl, seeing the confused thoughts turning in her deep lapis-blue eyes. She was the transparent sort… he valued his ability to read people with cutting precision and yet no talent was needed for this girl. He found it… charming.

"Seiya… so much happened today," she murmured, a delightful furrow to her brow. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead, lifting her chin with a finger so that she finally looked at him with her wide doe eyes.

"Why did you speak for me like that?" she pleaded.

Seiya's light eyes were soft and unconcerned. "Shhh. It's not important." His finger idly caressed the soft hallow under her chin.

Serena stepped away abruptly, gaping at him. "Not important? But what am I supposed to do? She's your sister! Can't you do anything? I—" I don't want to be in your council," she finished quietly making a helpless gesture with her hands.

Seiya just smiled at her, increasing her frustration ten-fold. "Don't worry," he said in his same placid voice.

"How can I not worry?" Serena sighed and covered her face in her hands. The day had started out so well. She didn't want to deal with this. A small moan filtered through her throat as she relived her one and only duel with the ice princess of Whittenfield. "I've hardly fenced, Seiya! How am I supposed to defend my right to stay in school? If I lose, will I really be forced to leave?"

"Serenity."

Just her name on his voice made her hesitate and look up at him. His eyes were a mirror of his sister's silver-flecked blue but where hers froze her, his was able to calm her. "Do you trust me, Serenity?"

She reflected on all the times he had been there for her and a small warmth beat in her chest. She may still not know her feelings for this young man, but through her appreciation she knew she believed in him. Nodding, she whispered, "Yes."

His large slender hand came up to cup her face as he peered down at her with a soft smile. "Than believe me. You will not be forced to leave school as long as I want you here. And you will join me in the council by winning against my sister."

His face was leaning very close to hers, and though she was comforted she felt uneasy at the same time. It was only because she was new to it all, she told herself even as she glanced away and pulled back from his embrace. "She's a very good duelist… isn't she?" Serena murmured, staring off to the side.

"Then you'll just have to become better." Seiya stared at her thoughtfully for a moment before straightening. "Yes—one month should prove to be enough," he said under his breath. Then he turned to leave the room, instructing her before he left, "Meet me by the outside courts in ten minutes."

The man stood where Seiya expected to find him, standing proudly by his classroom's victorian windows with a book in his hands. He watched Artemis flip a page, knowing full well he was being ignored. An amused smile tugged at his lips as he ambled farther into the room. "Not even a hello?" Seiya mused aloud. There was a moment's silence and then another turn of the page.

"Pray tell me the reason for this honored visit," Artemis finally murmured in a bored tone. With a lofty turn of his head, he glanced at Seiya. His white-blond hair seemed to glow in the gray light, his eyes an even lighter silver-blue than Seiya's own. The aristocrat's blood that ran through him was undeniable.

"I have to have a reason to visit my wonderful _Professor_?" Seiya gave an insolent lift to his brow and watched an unfriendly smile curl at Artemis' lip. Seiya laughed silently and walked forward to stare out the window. "I need a favor."

Now Artemis was the one to lift his eyebrows. "Do you? How fortunate. Perhaps you will have better luck for a favor from among the _other_ faculty? I guarantee that you will waste your time with me."

"Sadly, I require the favor of _you_. I need you to personally teach someone fencing. You see, she has been challenged by my sister for a duel and it is my wish that she wins. You would have one month to prepare her."

Artemis gave a harsh chuckle. "Fencing is it? I am only a humble professor now, or have you forgotten I was forced from my position as fencing master of this school. I fancy you were the reason behind that."

"That is true. However I require you to teach her, nonetheless. I still have more authority than you in this school, or have _you_ forgotten? Am I making myself clear?"

"Why choose me?"

Seiya turned and smiled at the older man. "Because you are the best."

Artemis' eyes narrowed to steel slits. "I am not one to be threatened, as you know. Teaching here is my wish and whim and not a necessity or honor. So why do you still ask?"

"Why do you choose to stay here?" Seiya asked instead.

Artemis was a stonewall. "That's irrelevant," he said in a flat voice.

Seiya gave a careless shrug. Turning on his heels, he walked to the doorway, speaking as he did. "The decision is yours. If you wish to meet her, she is waiting by the outdoor courts. You cannot deny you are curious about Serenity Blake. I promise she will make an interesting pupil for you."

Artemis stared after the young man as he made his exit, a pensive expression on his face and his book long forgotten. Seiya Whittenfield was right about one thing, he was curious of the girl. He knew of her defiance to Raye Whittenfield on her very first day and the scorn she received for it. It was something few would do. And she was to duel Miss Whittenfield, a first class fencer, in one month? It was… interesting. He ran a hand down his book and stared at it thoughtfully, wondering many things that really were of no consequence. With a decisive snap, Artemis had dropped his book on a desk and set off for the courts.

The sky was overcast, a cold white-gray, and the brittle leaves swayed in the slight wind. Serena rubbed her hands over her arms, standing where she was told and not knowing how long she was supposed to wait. School was over and the drifters that stayed behind had moved to their after-school events and clubs or returned to their upscale homes. She shivered and sighed, not seeing the teacher arrive and silently watch her.

The girl muttered something about waiting under her breath, and a thin smile fought its way to Artemis' lips before disappearing without a trace. "Miss Blake," he greeted in a calm voice, his face its normal mask. She turned around, facing him with startled blue eyes before confusion furrowed her brow.

"Why are you here? Where's Seiya?"

"Wherever he wants to be, I suppose," Artemis murmured noncommittally with a slight shrug. Clasping his hands behind him, he walked to the girl and moved around her. His first impression of her was right, she was a pretty young girl--but heaven knew that Seiya had many with equal beauty at his disposal, if not at the school than elsewhere. Serenity Blake's background was common, which was what made the situation unique. Lost in his own musings, he only just became aware of her fiery gaze and stiffened form.

Perhaps she should be used to being studied as if she were some interesting plant, but familiar feeling it may be it was no more pleasant. "You're a literature professor here?" she prompted with an edge to her voice and was glad when he finally paused before her.

"I am. My name is Artemis Beaumont. As to why I am here, you are in need of a fencing tutor and I must decide whether or not I wish to fill that need."

Serena looked at him in surprise. "Fencing?" It answered her question yet raised so much more. "Did Seiya arrange this for me? I thought you didn't like him…"

"I don't," Artemis said brusquely.

"Then why would you do this?"

He looked her over coolly and the pale eyes once again unnerved her. "Do you wish for my help or do you not?"

Serena straightened and without hesitation said, "I do." She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. Despite his dislike of Seiya, for whatever reason, she had admired this man for it. As intimidating as Artemis Beaumont was, his mere presence demanded respect. She wanted to be found worthy by this teacher, and she did desperately need help if she had any hope to win against Raye Whittenfield. What did he see in her as he peered into her stubborn blue eyes?

After an excruciating moment, he nodded slowly. "Perhaps… you will do. Meet me tomorrow after school, dressed in your fencing attire. I will make my decision then." Without another word, Artemis turned and walked off, dismissing the bewildered blonde as she stared after him.

Seiya Whittenfield had a dangerous perception of those around him, and it bothered Artemis to think that he was doing exactly what Seiya wanted. He likely knew that the girl would intrigue Artemis. She had an honest spirit that most lacked at Whittenfield Academy and was a rare find, but she also trusted Seiya. Even Lucifer could charm like an angel of light.

He would test her strength and skill, and if he found her worthy he would make her his pupil. Perhaps if he did, she might learn something besides fencing.

Artemis stood waiting for her. He was staring out the window and she didn't think he heard her enter but after a minute of silence he turned to her, looked her over, and nodded. "Shall we begin?"

Serena let out the breath she was holding and nodded. For some reason, this teacher made her more nervous than the aggressive fencing teacher. She fidgeted in her fencing outfit and tried to calm her heartbeat.

Artemis gestured with a foil sword off to the side. "That is your sword while I am teaching you."

Serena obeyed the silent command and picked up the sword but looked at Artemis questioningly. "I don't think Raye will choose the foil sword for our duel, Sir," she ventured.

Artemis looked at her calmly, his eyes all too keen. "I don't care about Miss Whittenfield. I have not offered to teach you because of her and it should not be your motivation to learn. No. You will learn with the foil," he folded his hands behind his back and began to walk around her. "Its rules are not limitations but necessities. You will gain a respect for its methods as well as the critical sense of timing and strategy. You must fight with knowledge and observance, not a reckless aim for a hit based on instinct alone less your instinct be unreliable. Do you understand?" He stopped and turned to her.

She straightened her back and nodded, her grip tightening on her sword with anticipation.

"Very well, then," he said with a nod. He took his place before her, and she followed his lead with a salute. Forcing down the faint feeling rising in her chest, she donned her mask and mimicked his pose. "On Guard," he declared and so her fencing trials only began.

He didn't hesitate or wait for her and Serena was caught up in a flurry of an attack and parried the best she could on instinct. It was far from the calm practices at class, reminding her more of the demanding challenge during her duel with Raye. Her heart fluttered rapidly in response. She had already retreated so many steps and clenching her teeth with a small grunt she evaded his sword and lunged. She pushed her body and mind farther than she ever had before, her lapis-blue eyes narrowed in stubborn determination.

Unlike what she had seen from Raye's duel, this teacher fenced with an aura of respect and honor. It made her _want_ to do well. He fought calmly and accurately, always appearing to know what she'd do before she did it. The attacks and parries went back and forth and only the ring of the swords sounded in the silence. She grew tired fast and her concentration blurred and within a moment he gained a touch. Without a word they began again, and she thought her body's movement felt drugged in comparison with his. It was over all too soon and she hadn't even managed a single touch.

Artemis paused, the point of his sword hovering just over Serena's chest. All she could do was stare at it as she panted, her tired arm mindlessly still holding her own sword ahead of her. Slowly she let her hand drop to her side. She had fought as hard as she could; it just wasn't good enough. Frustrated tears stung her eyes.

Artemis' eyes were critical as he stared at her. "You are letting me control the pace."

"You're bigger than I am," Serena defended, beginning to catch her breath. She slipped off her mask and swiped a hand at the sweat beading on her forehead.

"I am stronger and my reach is farther," Artemis agreed. "However, that does not mean you give in. You must examine your opponent and judge how to fence. Fight in the defense. Your attacks must be deceptive and indirect. Your fighting is sloppy and predictable. As you are, you are no match for Raye Whittenfield. You were a fool to fence with her the first time."

Serena's eyes fell to the floor, humiliation burning her cheeks and defiance and tears warring in her eyes. "Then why are you teaching me? You still haven't told me why."

He was quiet for a moment. She didn't know whether he was thinking over a response or simply contemplating her. "You were a fool," he said softly, "but an admirable one."

Startled, she looked up, even more surprised by a soft quirk to the man's lips. It was amazing how gentle it made his ghostly pale eyes look. Serena's body relaxed all at once. This teacher was… different than any of the others. She shifted her gaze to some unknown corner, her mind wandering. "The duel… between Raye and I… it means more than getting into the Council. I have something to prove to myself as well as to her. I won't let her look down on me."

Artemis rested a hand on her shoulder. "Then raise your sword… for as long as your will is strong, I will teach you."

Serena tried to suppress a silly smile from spreading across her face as Artemis moved in front of her, his demeanor once again all seriousness. He wasn't going to go any easier on her she knew, and yet felt all the better for it. Her muscles ached, but her adrenaline was strong and blood pumped fervently through her veins. She moved into position with ease, a new determination in her eyes as the first clangs of swords echoed in the vacant hall.

That evening found Serena curled up on a cozy couch at home. She rubbed her tired eyes, fighting the temptation to close them as she tapped a pencil on the textbook weighing down her lap. She smiled suddenly, pushing the tomb of a book away and reached into the pile of books. It was an old book with a worn, wrinkled brown leather cover and yellowed pages. Underneath a faded rose emblem the simple gold letters read "Of Fencing and Duels." Artemis had given it to her just before she left. She trailed a hand down the front cover before flipping through the first few pages. It was strange. She had never had an interest in a physical activity before. Her preference always ran more towards reading, writing, and occasionally sketching.

She hadn't really considered the possibility before her lesson that day that fencing was something she could enjoy. Her body felt stiff but she didn't care. There was an invigorating feeling afterwards, more than the simple rushing of her blood. Serena lost herself in two chapters before the grandfather's clock struck nine. The deep chimes brought her to and, putting her reading aside, she slipped into the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea. The scent of raspberry and cinnamon wafted through the little town house when her mother shuffled in.

"Mum!" Serena greeted happily, handing one of the two china teacups.

Irene Blake paused to shut her eyes and take in a big breath. "Oh, this smells like heaven," she murmured with a sigh.

Serena only smiled.

Irene indulged in a long sip and her pine green eyes suddenly twinkled at Serena from over the rim.

"What's that look for?" Serena laughed.

"Because you, my little girl, have an admirer."

Serena lowered her cup, brow furrowing. Her first thought was to wonder how her mother had found out about Seiya, but her mother surprised her.

Irene set down her tea and turned to shuffle in the bags she brought home. "That handsome boy that visited you a few days ago at the cafe... he returned and asked about you."

"Really?" Serena edged, not quite sure what to make of it.

"Here it is!" Irene exclaimed, pulling out a perfect white rose.

Serena stared at it in surprise, mindlessly taking it. The thorns were cleanly shaven off, the sprigs of jagged leaves healthy and moist. There was not a withered or stained petal among the white girdle, the ivory petals touched by the barest red hue like a blush. It was in that innocent stage between starting to bloom and being fully bloomed, the middle petals gently caving and curling around another as the outer petals spread out.

"Strange its not a red rose," Irene murmured as if to herself. "A new fashion I suppose." She waved her hand to dismiss the matter and leaned over to kiss her daughter's cheek, not appearing to notice Serena's lack of response. "Night darling. I'm opening the cafe tomorrow so have a good day at school."

Serena was annoyed and more than perturbed, for what she had thought she had managed to forget amidst the events at school came back to her. 'Darien,' he said his name was... she remembered his brush of warm lips against hers and soft voice as he whispered in her ear, in reference to her rose, "It should have been white."

**A.N. **Sorry about the long wait in chapters. Honestly, I've been more preoccupied with my art and lots of other things this past year and am trying to get back into writing more. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Darien should be making a return in appearance in the next chapter. As always, comments/suggestions/feedback is always welcomed and appreciated---you might not think it helps, but it does motivate me when I read your thoughts on the story. Don't give up on me no matter how long the gaps as I will write and finish this story. For those keeping up with Tsuki no Namida the 12th chapter is near completion depending on how much revision it needs.

All my thanks to my friends and editors, among them Jess-chan, Kon, Lia, Sugarlily, and Claidi!

Star


	6. VI White Rose

**W a r . of . the . R o s e s**

_Stargirl_

**. VI** **White Rose**

Curiosity tangles like innocent thorns,

Petals are nipped by bitter cold.

Little rose, find your way--seek your heart,

For Love is a beauty untold.

- - -

Darien tapped a pencil on the papers before him, every once in awhile crossing out a name or scribbling a note. Classes were still in session and he had excused himself to the rooms reserved for student council members. There were endless events coming up as winter approached, and along with them a greater share of duties. As much as he tried to concentrate on his work at the moment, he continuously checked the time. Increasingly in recent days, he had found himself thinking about the girl from Whittenfield Academy. It was pure impulse that led him the other day to the café shop he had found her working in.

He was surprised at his own disappointment when she was not there, and after leaving the rose he had brought with the girl's mother, had left wondering about it. He prided himself in being an intelligent fellow and it did not take him long to face the simple truth. He liked her. There were so many reasons why he shouldn't, but he did. Besides, none of those reasons were any fault of hers.

He glanced at a nearby vase of white roses, a smile unconsciously softening his face. With a sigh and a rustle of papers, he returned to his work, knowing a quaint little corner café he might happen to pass by later that day.

Serena fidgeted before the intimidating gate, fighting down nervous butterflies. For not the first time, she wondered if she should really be doing this. Not only was she missing her last class, but it was nearing the time she was to meet with Artemis for her next fencing lesson. The lingering image of a sweet white rose and amused blue eyes surfaced in her mind. She stood straighter and pursed her lips even as her heart leapt. How foolish she was being! It was simple curiosity.

- - -

She doubted it was locked, and yet didn't move a step. Her clear blue eyes narrowed stubbornly at the iron wrought gate that stood between her and the back gardens of Bainbridge Academy. She shivered suddenly at a chill wind, wishing she had brought one of her mother's old coats to snuggle in. The thought wiggling in her mind that told her she would be utterly humiliated if someone caught her standing there like a hovering moth turned out to be the most effective. She tugged at the hem of her school jacket to smooth any imagined wrinkles and pushed through the gate.

She gazed avidly around her. She hadn't been to the school since her first accidental visit—and at the time she wouldn't have even known it was part of the school if it hadn't been for the student she met. The grounds at Bainbridge had a more open feel to them, she thought. The tall hedges, beautiful statues, and fountains of old stone were no less grand but spread apart more with a different and simpler artistic design than that of Whittenfield's classic beauty.

She wandered the numerous stone paths, nearly forgetting her purpose there. She blinked in surprise when she reached an inner courtyard and found herself staring at what seemed a sanctuary for white roses. Columns and the school's structures circled around her as if she had walked into the very heart of the school. Bells chimed in the distance to declare the school day's end.

Drawing in a needed breath for courage, she prepared for the task of finding the student called Darien. In the seconds after the bells, it occurred to her that it might be easier to find him at the front doors of the school and, in sudden urgency, she moved forward. Someone blocked her. She slowed down in confusion as the student stepped in her path with a furious glare in his eyes.

Students appeared from everywhere, a sea of rich blue uniforms and unfriendly gazes. An uneasy feeling swept through her and she unconsciously stepped back.

"You! What are you doing here?" a bold student demanded. Cocky green eyes behind glasses glared at her.

She stared at him in bewilderment. "I… I'm sorry? I'm just looking for someone."

A girl gave an unladylike snort before bestowing a fake sweet smile that made Serena's toes curl. "Sure you are, sweat heart." Crossing her arms and cocking her fiery head to the side, the girl gave Serena a dark look.

Serena forced her breaths to steady and, as sincerely and as patiently as she could, said, "Just listen to me. I'm only trying to find someone. He's a student here."

"And why would you want to find him?" the boy with glasses challenged.

Why? Serena felt frustration like thorns in her skin. Because he mocked her, kissed her, and gave her a rose? She didn't know how she was supposed to respond to this situation! "You're being unreasonable," she snapped.

"Are we?" a dangerously calm voice asked. Serena turned to see the two arrivals, unnerved by the cold tone. A tall, feminine boy with short ash-blonde hair and narrowed indigo eyes stared down at her while an elegant girl with chestnut curls around a serene and yet unforgiving expression looked on silently from behind him. The dozen or so other students scrambled to attention and looked to the duo expectantly.

'What was wrong with these people?' Serena thought angrily. They were treating her as if she were a criminal or spy. She hadn't done anything wrong, for goodness sakes! A cold breeze swept through the courtyard and she shivered, crossing her arms protectively. Uneasily, she cast her gaze around at the vicious or—at the very least, unwelcome—looks.

There were so many of them… and they looked so angry. Perhaps it would be best to back down this once? This new boldness of hers only seemed to be getting her into deeper messes… as if being bound to duel Raye Whittenfield wasn't trouble enough.

"Well?" the blond in front of her demanded.

Serena's helpless eyes turned back to him. He seemed to be the one in charge. She let her arms drop to her sides in surrender and, beseechingly, asked, "Would it be all right if I just leave? I'm sorry that I came or for whatever offense I gave."

The boy seemed about to serve another cutting remark when the girl behind him softly murmured, "Alex," as a mother might to calm a riley child. For a second, the hard indigo eyes of the boy softened. She could see the moment's decision cross his face even before he gave a curt nod. "Fine."

Serena let out the breath she had unknowingly held and feeling lightheaded she turned and waited for the students to reluctantly pull back. Once a pathway was opened, she gladly fled. Oh, she didn't understand what was happening at all! She didn't want to know—it had nothing to do with her and she should never have come. Against her will, tears stung her vision. She was so engrossed with the single-minded purpose to get away that she never even saw the students that had disappeared after her until it was too late. She yelped in alarm as hands grabbed her from in back and nails dug into her skin.

"Eh? I think those two are getting soft letting you in here," a voice mused. Heart pounding, Serena twisted to see her towering captor was a college-age young woman, auburn wavy hair falling around glittering eyes and a vicious smirk. "Don't you think we should teach her a lesson, boys?"

Serena felt ill as her heart fell to her stomach. A number of male students circled around, one even holding a baseball bat and not a single voice of reason among them. Even at Whittenfield while being bullied she hadn't felt this in danger physically. Her pulse quickened, sounded in her ears, adrenaline kicking in.

"You'll think again before visiting, now won't you, dear?" the female alumni mused.

Without thinking about it, Serena slammed her elbow into the older girl's stomach and ran as fast as she could, angry cries and footsteps following after her.

- - -

"Alexia?" A slender hand came to rest on Alex's shoulders and only then she realized she was still frowning. She forced a smile and then with an annoyed sigh and a swipe through her boyish haircut she turned back to the students hovering around and glared at them. "School's over. Go home," she snapped. They needed no prompting and scattered. Alexandria Norton was a force to be reckoned with even before she joined the school's student council. From the beginning she had rebelled against school policy by wearing the boy's uniform. She was among the elite at Bainbridge Academy, however, and could afford to be reckless.

She was always reckless when it came to Whittenfield Academy and it didn't take much to set her off. The students from the neighboring school, particularly, deserved whatever treatment they got, in her mind. She smiled weakly to the girl beside her. "Are you satisfied?" she asked her friend and fellow council member, her voice with its natural huskiness.

Michelle De Leux simply smiled back. "Yes. Though for once you didn't stay in line just for me… I admit a Whittenfield student here is suspicious and usually bad news but I don't think she meant anything by coming here." Michelle stepped forward and looked after the path the girl had left, her head tilted slightly. "I wonder who she was looking for… do you think we should let Darien know?"

Alex nodded. "He'd want to know."

They found him in his usually spot, working, and relayed what happened. Darien stared at them blankly. "She's here?"

They exchanged curious glances.

Darien ignored them, his mind beginning to race. He thought of the girl's innocent stroll in the gardens when he had first found her, how he was on guard finding a Whittenfield student. It was the way all the students were. Defenses automatically went up around anyone from their rival school. He loved his school, but wasn't blind enough to think she'd be safe walking in.

She was probably off the grounds by now. She had to be, but what if she wasn't? He had a bad feeling. Even if it was nothing, he needed to check. Without a word to Alex or Michelle, he ran out the door.

"It looks like he knows her," Michelle mused.

Alexia just frowned in response. Nodding to each other, they followed after their very uncharacteristic student president.

- - -

Hedges all looked alike as Serena ran past them in a blur. Her lungs struggled with the cold air and her legs began to tire. She had always been a fast runner, but she had never tested it over unfamiliar grounds that weaved and turned. Steps went up. Steps went down. Around the water fountain; under the archway. She couldn't even find the open gardens from before. It felt like they had chased her into a maze and she suddenly had no sense of direction, just the motivation that they were somewhere behind her and she couldn't slow down.

She had watched people be bullied before at her old school from behind the crowds that sometimes watched. No one ever moved to help. Why had she never tried to help? She was scared and on her own. Just when she grew so tired that she wondered if it was worth running any further, she saw a small gap in a hedge. There was a yell behind her and as quick as she could she got to her knees and crawled through it in the dirt. Twigs pricked and tugged at her, but she pushed through them with relief as she broke through into the adjourning pathway.

Fingers grabbed and yanked her up by her hair. Crying out, she grabbed at her hair underneath the grip, trying to lesson the painful pull. A tall senior student glared at her, and she caught a glimpse of the young woman from before just over his shoulder. The eyes were cold and aloof. Serena ground her teeth against another cry, managing to throw a glare through her squinting eyes.

Another student painfully grabbed her arms, and her hair was released just as she was pushed painfully down to the stone path. The palms of her hands were scraped an angry red, one of her knees burning and tingling. Her ankle throbbed. Staring at the ground, glossy black shoes entered the edge of her blurred vision. She tensed and waited for the first blow… the first taunt. Anything. But nothing came. No one moved. No one spoke, until...

"Serenity?"

Serena looked up and froze, seeing and yet not seeing the hand reaching out to her. She lifted one of her hands and the larger hand clasped around it, pulling her gently onto her feet. It was him. His warm fingers tightened comfortingly over hers, but he wasn't looking at her. The students squirmed under his glare. After a moment, he made a gesture for them to go and they scrambled. She watched as only the older girl was left and as the two older students from earlier arrived, watching with mixture of confusion and curiosity. She numbly followed Darien as he led her away.

Serena awkwardly tried to keep up with Darien's fast and angry strides, increasingly worried when he didn't speak. It didn't help that all she could see was his back. His hand was beginning to crush hers but she was afraid to say anything.

She followed him as he brought her inside the school. At the first stairs they came to, however, a sudden ache seared through her ankle caused her to stumble and yelp. He stopped short and looked down at her with an unreadable expression. His gaze darkened once he saw the splatter of blood and small stones on her knee.

"Are—are you mad at me for coming?" Serena braved, her voice tentative.

Suddenly, he snapped out of whatever world he was lost in and met her eyes. "That's not it!" He hung his head and sighed, swiping a hand through his dark hair and tousling it. "Look, I'm sorry. I was just really worried." He dropped his hand from his face and gave her a weak smile that seemed to ask for her to forgive him.

"Oh," Serena said dumbly. He was worried… about her?

Darien surveyed her leg again and seemed to make a decision. "You should have stopped me sooner," he chastised.

Serena was still trying to get her mind around the thought that he was worried about her when his arms circled around her and scooped her off her feet. She cried out and grabbed tightly around his neck.

"I know you probably want to strangle me—but you better wait until I set you down," he teased with a bit of his old humor back. Serena stared at him, still dazed at being in a guy's arms and a height away from the ground. He smiled. "Don't worry, I've got you."

Her body moved mindlessly, relaxing her hold and sinking into his embrace.

"It's Serenity, right?" he asked casually.

Her mind focused from its blur when it recognized a question it knew the answer to. She nodded. "Serenity Blake. Ah well – just Serena is fine…"

"Serena," he echoed, his voice soothing and warm.

It was then sense really kicked in that she was being carried. Serena turned her face down as she tried to fight the oncoming blush. "I can walk, you know," she mumbled into his jacket, refusing to look up.

"You never dreamed of being swept off your feet by prince charming?"

The amusement in his voice startled her. Truthfully, being rescued and carried in such a way felt nice… The humiliation would kill her if she let _him_ know that. What girl _didn't_ wish to be swept off her feet as if she weighed as much as a feather? To cover her embarrassment, she muttered, "I would hardly call you charming."

"Ah well, I suppose I'll just have to prove it to you. Now stop complaining; I must attend to my wounded princess!" he laughed. His previous anger seemed long and far away.

Serena lifted her head to make another angry comment but her breath caught at the smile he gave her. His smile was enough to make anyone forget the flaws in his personality. It always quirked to one side, his ocean eyes warm and laughing beneath the shadow of his dark hair. Why hadn't she noticed it at the café? Then again, she knew the answer to that. She had thought he was making fun of her.

There was a light feeling tingling beneath her skin and in her chest that she couldn't name. For the love of God, _why_ did he have to insist on carrying her? At war with her emotions, she stayed silent and subdued as he strode through the halls and brought her to a small, quaint office.

She breathed a sigh of relief as he sat her down on a settee and moved a distance… only to be on guard again when he returned with bandages and began to fondle her injured knee and ankle. His proximity alone unnerved her so much and now she had to suffer through his touch, she thought, frustrated. She watched silently, however, as he gently began to clean the wound. The only comfort she had was that he seemed too absorbed in his task to notice the effect he was having on her. Feeling mute and helpless, she watched him tend to her knee. _Kneeling before me like that, it really is like a prince attending to his princess_, she mused to herself.

"There." His movement confused her for a moment until she realized he had finished. He stared down at her with a raised eyebrow when she showed no reaction. "Not even a thank you?"

She flushed and looked away. "Thank you."

He squatted down, resting his chin on his hands and suddenly eye to eye with her. "Most princes would get a token of gratitude such as a kiss," he teased.

He was a rich playboy; that was all. He was rude and… smiled too much. She sucked in a breath and met his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. You _are_ the reason I got hurt to begin with."

Amusement touched his blue eyes. Clearly feigning innocence, he asked, "Now how is that?"

Curse him, he knew she had come to see him and still wanted her to admit it? Instead, she inquired flippantly, "Why the white rose?" If he believed that she was just avoiding his previous question, then he wouldn't be able to tell how badly she wanted to know his answer to hers. Then again, why did she need to know so badly? Never mind. She would worry about that later.

"Come with me somewhere and I might tell you," he said after a pause. He looked serious.

Scrambling for her voice, she stood up and said, "Forget it then. I have somewhere I need to be." Guiltily, she looked to a clock on the wall and realized that it was past the time she was supposed to meet Artemis for her lesson. She didn't want him to have a bad impression of her so soon after he accepted to teach her.

Darien rose with her but persisted. "Don't be like that. I won't keep you long. Won't you accompany me, fair maiden?" In a fluid manner, he captured her hand and kissed it, his gaze never moving from hers.

She knew he was teasing but was captured by those damnable blue eyes of his. Right now, they were light and playful and yet she had a feeling it was only like the glisten of sunlight over a very deep and unfathomable ocean. A desire kindled to know more about him, and without thinking about it she nodded in agreement. "I suppose I could."

He smiled. "Follow me," he said, not releasing her hand as he turned and began walking.

The academy halls were filled with students who lingered at the end of the school day and Serena wished she could disappear behind her "prince's" back as he walked oblivious to the stares. Apparently the sight of a fellow student tugging an injured Whittenfield Academy student behind them was a sight not seen all too often. Startled looks and whispers followed them like ripples.

"Da-Darien? Do you think… wou-wouldn't it be better if we used a back way?" she suggested. Her eyes darted nervously across the scattered Bainbridge students, wondering what would have happened to her if Darien had not shown up when he did.

"Nonsense. You're with me."

_You're with me?_ Serena refused to think of the strange turn in her stomach at the simple words. Her gaze fell to her hand still encased in his. Well, she would let him worry about the school's reaction to this display. But a corner of her wondered how he could be so confident. Wouldn't it be a problem for him to be seen with her? A cold feeling encompassed her when she thought of her own school finding out she had visited their rival. She never really thought of the consequences when she came looking for Darien. It was a bad fault of hers.

Before she knew it, Darien had led her outside to the front drive, pausing once to lift her over the couple of stairs. The looped pavement was scattered with limos and sleek cars as students, one by one, left the campus. She frowned when he made no motion to move and was about to ask when she noticed he was murmuring into a cell phone he had pulled from his pocket. No sooner than he had slipped the phone away then a limo pulled up before them.

Darien raised an amused eyebrow at her. "After you?" A chauffer already held the door open.

She couldn't stop herself from gawking. "We're taking a limo?" she asked, sounding dazed even to her own ears.

"It's easier than walking. You've never ridden in a limo before?" He smirked at her.

Her eyes snapped a fiery blue. "As a matter a fact, I have." Refusing to be showed up, she accepted the chauffeur's offered hand to help her inside and promptly scooted to the far side. Her brow furrowed when she heard him chuckle as he followed behind her and she stubbornly continued to gaze out the window.

All her past and recent interactions with Darien rolled through her mind, only increasing her frustration. She couldn't figure him out at all. A jerk, a tease, and too handsome and rich for his own good, a small voice promptly answered. But then he could go and be kind and gentle… and he had to have some sense of fairness, she realized. He could have easily shunned her like the rest of the students from his school. She was the one who was ignorant of the extent of the two school's rivalry. It might be nice if one other person could see it her way.

She sneaked a glance over to him to find his eyes shut and head resting back. Now that she thought about it, most of his treatment of her that had angered her so much was harmless teasing. When he teased her, his eyes danced with laughter and his lips smiled with a natural humor. She let out an exasperated sigh, a slight smile played on her lips as she turned back to the window. It was then she realized she knew the direction they were going.

Puzzled, she turned to Darien. "Are we going to Whittenfield?"

His eyes blinked open and he looked out the window for a moment and shook his head. "No. We're here."

Serena stepped out of the car and turned, bewildered. They hadn't gone as far as Whittenfield Academy. "Where is here?" She looked in all directions. Meadows and hills of faded greens spread until a misty edge of forest on one side, a lake sitting like a mirror to the cold sky. The other side had pathways and trees weaving by each other. Though she had passed this way every morning and afternoon on foot, she had never really paid attention to the area.

Darien took hold of her hand causing her to jump but she followed when he started walking down the pathways. A center fountain with an outskirt of stone pathways appeared before them and Serena stopped with an intake of breath. "I didn't know a place like this was here…"

Hands in his pockets, Darien leaned against one of the numerous statues and smiled at her apparent awe. After a moment, he let his eyes wander across the grounds fondly. Over hills and bends were gazebos and overhangs, stairs and levels. "Supposedly… it's neutral territory."

Serena looked at him with a blank expression. "What?"

"This park… its acres are the only thing separating our two schools. The founders called it to be a common ground… a place of truce. As ironies go, it has only served to worsen the feud."

"Tell me… tell me why there is a feud." Serena stood still for the tense moment as he returned her serious expression.

"Why? I don't think even the teachers themselves know," he admitted. "To begin with, I believe the ideals themselves are too different. Whittenfield Academy was built first with an impressive reputation from the start. However, they catered too much to the aristocracy. The founder himself had noble ancestry and was very proud, dictating the school more like a king. I will not lie and say that Bainbridge doesn't have its faults or its share of prejudice to lower classes," he sent her an apologizing glance, "but it was founded on acceptance over exclusiveness."

"That does make it sound like I ended up at the wrong school," Serena murmured to herself with a rueful shake of her head.

Darien's eyes sharpened on her, catching the soft words and hearing her sigh. He remembered the first day he met her and her outburst as she chastised him. He could imagine what hardships there were for a foreign girl of lower class. Even those within his own school, a school that he held in highest regard, were shadows cast to the side, often overlooked and sometimes put down.

He was never one to trust easily, but ever since the day he had met her, he could only see her as a maiden in distress captured in a school not of her choice. Ah, and what dragons that school possessed! In the short time he'd known her, he saw her spirit and her pride… and more then once he had found himself thinking about her.

"I wanted to see you," he said suddenly, simply.

"Huh?" She looked at him with startled eyes.

Patiently, he explained, "You wanted to know why I left the white rose with your mum to give to you. It was because I wanted to see you again." He held back a chuckle at her blank expression but could not stop the quirk at his lips when he added, "Though I didn't consider that you would come to look for me. That was a pleasant surprise."

She snapped her mouth shut, a blush—assuredly not from the cold alone—rising to her cheeks. "I just wanted to know the reason for it," she mumbled, looking down. "I didn't think either of us had the best impression of the other…"

Darien smiled at that. "On the contrary, I had a very good impression of you. I apologize if you thought otherwise."

Serena looked up, meeting his gaze with a searching one of her own. What she was searching for, he did not know. Finally she said, "And I apologize if I… if I might have jumped to the wrong conclusions about you."

They stood there for a moment in awkward silence until Darien reached out a hand towards her. "Truce?"

The uncertainty drained from her face and he wasn't prepared for the heavenly smile that took over her face as she nodded and took his hand.

"So… you want to talk about it?" he offered.

Serena stared at him, her eyes glowing with a warmth she had not felt before. Her whole body felt warm now. Any thoughts of time or fencing fled. He didn't need to define what "it" was. She simply knew. All the hurt pride, frustration, and loneliness she had felt so recently surfaced as if waiting to be released. She would never let her problems show to her mother—why worry her more? She could never seem to bring up a more personal conversation with Seiya—whether she was just embarrassed, she did not know. She had no other friends—the girl, Amy, seemed to have disappeared into thin air. She could never approach a teacher with her problems—well, perhaps there was Artemis… but as of yet, he was still quite intimidating.

Darien was the only one to listen to her problems. That next hour, they found a seat under a gazebo and Serena started from the beginning, sharing her excitement and hope that first morning and how they were dashed. He seemed startled at the part of her conflicts with Raye Whittenfield, but his eyes shown with admiration and encouraged her to continue.

The initial awkward feeling she had of talking so personally to someone who was, for all purposes, a stranger, faded to the ease she might have had in a long-time friendship. She went into detail on the bullying from classmates and the hurt from abandonment of the one friend she thought she had made… expressed her confusion and distress at the isolation she felt. She said all that… and yet, she edged around receiving the red rose, left out everyone's sudden change of attitude, and sealed her lips all together on any hint of Seiya Whittenfield's attentions towards her.

She didn't know why she kept silent there when everything else poured out of her. Perhaps because she was so confused over her present situation and what her place in the school actually was, or embarrassed by the thought of living such a lie. Whatever the cause, she could not bring herself to tell him and tried to ignore the little guilt at hiding it from him.

"You have the heart of a lion," he said after she told him about accepting Raye Whittenfield's challenge.

"Then why do I feel like such a coward?" She looked out across the gardens, distantly noting the darkening sky and not even realizing the peaceful look she posed. She had thought that she was over what happened at school, but clearly she had only bottled up her emotions. She hadn't felt as light and content as she did in that moment in such a long time.

Reluctantly, she stood. "It's getting late. I should go." He stood with her, and once she met his eyes, all she could say was, "Thank you."

"Any time," he said softly. He nodded to the way we came and where the limo had waited. "I'll take you home."

"No! I mean it's fine. I pass by this way from school all the time."

"But you're not usually injured," he pointed out.

"It's fine, really. Either way, I should exercise it so I'll be able to move in the morning…and thank you again for helping me… and for listening."

Before she could lose her courage, she stood on tiptoes and pecked his cheek, quickly turning away before he could see the violent blush on her cheeks. Just before she reached the bend, he called her name. Her heart fluttered and she looked back.

"The next practice match between our schools will be in three days. Meet me there after!"

Serena nodded and waved, not trusting her voice at that moment. What was wrong with her? She hardly noticed her surroundings on the walk home, but the brisk fresh air felt wonderful on her face. Far too soon she was home, restlessly moving from room to room despite her sore leg and unable to concentrate on her books. There was such a rush of thoughts and feelings in her mind that she could hardly make sense of it at all. All she knew was that for once she felt happy.

She curled up on her bed when it grew later, smiling into the shadowed room. The vase by the little window was host to a single white rose, the soft, silvery-blue light of the moon casting a glow around it. Burrowing further into her covers, she prayed the next three days would pass very, very soon.

- - - - - -

_Hooray! An update! ;; Sorry for the long wait. Lots of Darien, though, right? Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year! 3_

_God bless,_

_-Star_


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